


Not All Monsters are Imaginary

by grimmfairy



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Mike Ross, Explicit Sexual Content, Harvey is a badass, Kidnapping, M/M, Mike is traumatized, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sex Toys, Stalking, a sensitive badass, parts of this are disturbing, really - Freeform, trauma more than once, walking the line between friendship and romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmfairy/pseuds/grimmfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike Ross is naive, even if he doesn't know it. He knows what a sexual predator/stalker is but assumes like most people that it will never happen to him. He soon finds that out when he attracts the wrong kind of attention from a stranger. Harvey dismisses the problem until Mike never shows one day. Mike is kidnapped by a deranged man and tortured sexually and Harvey is left to pick up the pieces as best he can. If he can.</p><p>Originally posted on fanfiction.net but with an alternate storyline after chapter 17 of the original work. This one is going to end in a romantic relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mike wouldn't say that he was naive. He had lived through many things that other never had to. The death of his parents, a childhood marked by a lack of money, and Trevor with his drugs. All of this lead him to believe that while maybe he was young, he was not naive.

Harvey Spector, best damn closer in the city, begged to differ. Well, not begged. Harvey never begged for anything. Ever. But when it came to his young associate's attitude towards the world, he was amazed by how naive he was. Mike seemed to still believe that every person ever born on this earth was intrinsically good. Harvey knew better.

Mike was riding home on his bike one night (or early morning, whichever you prefer) after a long day. Harvey had lectured him once again on the importance of not caring about clients. Louis had dropped enough work on his desk to keep several associates busy for days, AND he wanted it done in two days. And Rachel. Rachel was pissed at him when he asked her to help him with his work because he made the mistake of pulling rank on her. Women.

All of these thoughts were flying through Mike's brain as he walked up the stairs to his apartment, messenger bag full to the brink of exploding with case files. He barely noticed his surroundings as he unlocked his door, didn't care either. He just wanted to get to work and hopefully get a few hours of sleep before he had to be back at the office. Even one hour of sleep. He didn't even hear his phone ring the first time he was so buried in paperwork. He did hear it the second time and picked it up without even looking at the caller ID.

Instead of hearing Harvey's rich yet condescending voice, however, Mike heard nothing but a slight hissing sound.

"Hello? Hello?" Mike spoke irritably into the phone.

"Hello." A man's voice answered slowly in a low tone.

"Can I help you?" Mike asked as he rubbed his eyes. He heard a click on the other end. Must have been a wrong number, he assumed. He had other things to worry about.

* * *

Mike figured the following day would be a good one. He had managed to get most of the paperwork done and grab two hours of sleep. He still had today to get the rest done, something he figured was possible. For once there was no big, pressing case for him and his boss to work on and the ride to the office had been rather enjoyably safe. Mike dropped his bag in his small cubicle and walked to Harvey's office. Donna looked up at his approach. Mike did a small bow and with a flourish presented her with a cup of coffee (skim with sugar and whipped cream).

"For you. May I enter Harvey's office?" Mike smiled as Donna took his offering and waved him inside. Harvey was, as usual, on the phone with someone.

"Yes...Yes I understand...What you don't seem to realize is that we don't jump from a client we've had for years to someone who they're suing for copyright infringement...No, especially since you cannot pay as well...No..." Harvey saw Mike come in and motioned for him to sit down. Mike waited a few minutes longer until Harvey finally hung up the phone.

"So..." Mike began. "I have the files you wanted proofread and-" His phone rang. Mike looked at Harvey whose face held the customary why-don't-you-turn-that-thing-off-look. "Hello?"

"Hello, Michael." The voice sounded familiar.

"Can I help you?" Mike asked. The voice on the other end paused for awhile and for a moment Mike thought his phone had dropped the call.

"You can."

"May ask who is calling and what it concerns?" Mike asked. He had a weird feeling. The person on the other end hung up.

"Who was that?" Harvey asked disinterestedly.

"I have no-" Mike began but was cut off by his boss.

"I don't care. Don't you have work to do?" Harvey waved his hand in dismissal. Mike rolled his eyes.

"If I'm not back in five minutes...just wait longer." Mike smirked as Harvey's eyes met his.

"An Ace Ventura reference? And you wonder why permission to sit at the adult table eludes you." Harvey went back to his work as Mike left, but couldn't stop the smallest of smiles grace his face before he wiped it off.

* * *

Mike had actually gotten a ride from Harvey (well, his driver) because it was pouring rain outside and Donna took mercy on him. He thanked Harvey who told him not to be late the next day and approached his apartment building. A man in an overcoat bumped into him and murmured a quick apology before scurrying off. Mike brushed it off and went inside where he shed his dampened clothing and put on some pajamas. He gathered the few remaining documents that needed his attention and got to work. His phone rang after about an hour of proofing. He recognized the number, but couldn't place it.

"Hello?"

"Michael Ross?" The voice was the one from earlier that day. Mike's incredible memory supplied him with that information and an uneasy feeling.

"Yes, this is Michael Ross. How can I help you?" Mike listened to the man's breathing on the other end of the line. "Hello?"

"Do you work out?" The voice asked. Mike raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"When I ran into you in the street, you felt like you worked out."

"Who is this?" Mike asked sternly. "Stop calling me." But whoever it was had already hung up. Mike scrubbed his hands across his face and decided to talk to Harvey about it tomorrow. Maybe one of the associates was playing a prank on him.

Later that night, before he went to bed for a few hours of much needed sleep, Mike double-checked the lock on his door. Just in case.

Mike was sitting in his cubicle with a stack of personnel records from a record label that Harvey was representing. Someone had embezzled millions of dollars from them and the label's clients had sued the record label's CEO claiming it was his fault. Jessica had tasked Harvey with finding the embezzler to appease them, meaning Mike had to go through hundreds of employee files to find any kind of inconsistencies. His experience last night was all but forgotten as he poured through his thirtieth file and drank from his now lukewarm cup of coffee. It was near six o'clock when Harvey came to check on his progress before he left for dinner with, Mike was sure, a beautiful actress or model or something.

"Find anything yet?" Harvey leaned casually on the wall.

"Not yet. A few possibilities, but I don't think I've found the right person yet." Mike closed the file he was working on. Suddenly he remembered what he had been hoping to talk to Harvey about. "Hey, can we talk about something?"

"Tomorrow. Right now I'm going to late to dinner." Harvey adjusted his cuffs and tie.

"Say hi to..." Mike squinted. "Which one is it tonight?"

"Very funny. Her name is Sarah." Harvey walked off past the other associates. Mike shook his head and kept working. Even though most people would be annoyed by the way Harvey ignored him, it actually helped mike believe that the phone calls weren't that big of a deal.

Around ten-thirty, Mike unlocked his bike and went back to his apartment. He unlocked his door and dropped his messenger bag on the couch while he went to find some coffee. While he waited for it to brew, Mike sat on his couch and began sorting through the remaining personnel files. As he was doing so, his phone rang and the caller ID showed "private number".

"Mike Ross." Mike answered.

"I know." It was his mystery caller.

"I told you to stop calling me." Mike hung up irritably. He rubbed his hand through his hair and tried to focus once more on his work. The phone rang again and showed the same caller ID. Mike ignored the ringing and went into the kitchen to get some coffee. When he got back, the phone was ringing again. Mike answered without checking the ID and snapped into the phone.

"I told you to stop calling me!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harvey's annoyed and somewhat amused voice replied.

"Sorry. Someone keeps calling my cellphone."

"When did that start?" Harvey sounded unusually interested. Which was only mildly interested when it came to Harvey.

"Night before last." Mike hesitated. "Um...I think he's watching me."

"It's probably just a bad prank. Keep me posted though." Harvey's voice quickly lost the slightly interested tone. "Don't forget the meeting tomorrow with the client." Then he hung up. Mike rolled his eyes. How could he possibly forget about the meeting with the client that Harvey had reminded him of four times today.

Mike picked up the mug of coffee and took a sip when suddenly his phone rang again. He picked up the phone with his free hand and sighed when he saw the caller ID.

"This isn't funny." Mike snapped.

"No, what isn't funny is how tired you look. You should get some sleep." The voice sounded almost concerned. Mike's head snapped up and he stood so fast he tripped over his own feet. As he fell, Mike hit his head on the small table in front of the couch. Mike managed to find his phone in a daze.

"What the fuck? Are you watching me?" Mike yelled.

"That sounded like it hurt. Get some sleep." _click_

Mike threw his phone and wrapped his arms around his knees. His head hurt and he was rattled by the conversation. He considered calling Harvey but he didn't want to bother him. Finally he dragged himself back into his seat on the couch. Mike threw himself into his work and for awhile managed to mostly forget what had happened. After he finished the files he had brought back with him (fruitlessly), he got ready for bed and put his phone on his nightstand. Harvey had a bad habit of calling him at all hours of the early morning. He had just closed his eyes when his perfect memory brought the mysterious man's voice to the front of his mind.

"Get some sleep." rang over and over in his mind until Mike actually placed his pillow over his ears to try to block out the sound.  
By the time Mike fell asleep, the sun had just started to rise.

When the blaring sound of Mike's alarm sounded, the young man slammed a hand down on the snooze button. About two minutes into the snooze, his phone rang.

"Time to wake up, Michael-baby.." The voice almost sounded like he cared.

"Leave me alone, you son of a bitch." Mike hated how whiny he sounded, but he couldn't help it.

"Or you'll do what? Sic that heartless monster of a boss on me?"

"I'll call the police."

"I wouldn't do that." The mystery man's voice grew cold.

"Why not?"

"Because then I'll have to punish you, baby."

"I'm not your baby." Michael threw off his blanket.

"You don't know it yet, but you really are."

"I'm hanging up." Mike tried to make his voice sound more intimidating.

"Before you do, consider this. Do you have people you care about? People that you wouldn't want to hurt? Because if you do, you won't involve the police. And technically, I haven't done anything illegal that you can prove. You're a lawyer. Kind of." With that, the man hung up, leaving mike staring at his phone.

* * *

Mike was ten minutes late to work and he had to suffer Harvey's stare as he enter the older man's office. But the angry look faded somewhat when he saw Mike's bruised forehead and the rings under his eyes.

"What the hell happened to you?" Harvey walked over to inspect the bruise.

"I tripped." Mike mumbled. "Hit my head on the table."

"Did you even sleep at all?" Harvey turned away to go back to his desk.

"Yeah." For a couple of hours, he thought.

"What about your little problem? Did you get any calls?" Harvey asked without looking up from the paperwork on his desk.

"Oh. Nope." Mike said. He instantly knew Harvey didn't believe him by the look the man gave him. "Well, yes. But I told him to leave me alone."

"What's the number?"

"I don't know. It was blocked." Mike shrugged. Harvey held out his hand.

"Give me your phone. I'll have a contact in the police look at it."

"What?" Mike was surprised at Harvey's seeming concern.

"You heard me. And don't get too excited, I need you in top condition. I hate the paperwork needed to fire someone." Harvey accepted Mike's phone. "Now go down to tech and get a new phone for the day. I know you already have your contacts memorized." Mike left the office to get to work and Harvey looked at Donna.

"He's already on line two." She said. Harvey smiled. How would he live without her?

"Hey officer...yeah, I need to call in a favor...He's freaked out about it, and it's affecting his work...No, I don't...No, caring is not something I do...I'll send the phone over. Should be there within the hour...Yeah, I need a duplicate SIM card sent back by the end of office hours though...Owe you one less...Bye." Harvey hung up and sat back in his chair. He needed to prep for his meeting in a few hours, but for the moment he contemplated Mike. He had seen the results of bad stalkings that started similar to this. He wouldn't let Mike end up like that. His reputation would take a hit if he couldn't even protect his employees.

* * *

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

Harvey was neck-deep in a bad case. Apparently, the CEO of the record label really had embezzled all the money which left the firm in a bad position. Jessica was in Harvey's office at least twice and hour asking if he had found a way to salvage the case without dropping the client all together. Dropping them would mean millions of dollars lost and a dent in the firm's reputation. In light of this, Mike had stopped telling Harvey about the nightly calls he received. Harvey was already worried about the case, and Mike's phone had been a dead end. They had nothing to go on.

Every night for three nights, like clockwork, Mike's phone would ring on the hour. Sometimes the man would say something, sometimes he would just breathe on the line. Mike had stopped answering them long ago, but every once in awhile his curiosity got the best of him. Now, most normal people would have turned their phone off by now. Unfortunately, Mike never knew when Harvey was going to call him in to work on the case with him. And his new company phone wouldn't be in for until he went in for work.

Mike walked into work with a feeling of relief. Today he got a new phone with a new number, which meant no more late-night calls. Harvey noticed the smile on his associate's face.

"How can you manage to look like crap and be so happy about it?" The older man inspected his associate: the bags under his eyes, the slouch in his shoulders, the overall wrinkled state of his clothing. Mike just shrugged.

"Did you need me for something?" Mike asked.

"I just wanted to know if your little problem has resolved itself."

"Oh. Yeah, every thing is fine now. Don't worry about it." Harvey raised an eyebrow at Mike's response, but he let it go. He had more important things to do. His reputation as a lawyer was in jeopardy and he had tasked Mike with finding a legal loophole in their contract so he could drop his client. Jessica and him had come the conclusion that this was the best option in the long run. They had lied to him, and no one. Lied. To Harvey Spector. Ever. Not without consequences.

"What have you found?"

"There's a way. It was staring me in the face the whole time." Mike dropped the file on his boss's desk. "There's a clause in their contract that allows them to drop us as legal representation if we in any way deceive them directly."

"And this helps us how? Every contract has that clause."

"Well, the way it is worded allows us to do the same thing to them if they directly deceive us. We can drop them as clients and no lawyer would take their case if they sued." Mike watched as Harvey picked up the documents and read, but there was no surprise in his eyes. He knew mike would find a way. Harvey would have done it if he hadn't been busy with keeping Jessica off his case.

"This will work. I have to make a few calls. And you." Harvey looked Mike right in the eyes. "I could have found this without you. But I'm still impressed." Mike's eyes widened but he smiled and walked out of the office with his shoulders back.

Mike talked the other associates into leaving for drinks without him that night since Harvey had asked him to prepare for the big meeting with the client tomorrow. Harvey was planning on dropping the record label for lying with as much flair as possible. Since mike was the one who found the loophole first, he got the privilege of watching. Harvey sent him home early with the express orders to get some sleep so he wouldn't have to "explain why his employee looked like Rocky after the fight".

Mike trudged wearily up to his apartment, thrilled to be getting to bed somewhat early. Early for him at least. When he reached his door, it was locked as usual.

His living area was clean and tidy, and made him stop in his tracks and his blood freeze. When Mike had left for work, everything was where he had left it. That meant that it was everywhere and on everything. As Harvey had once pointed out, Mike wasn't much of stickler for neatness or clothing hangers.

But now his apartment was clean and tidy as if it belonged in a magazine. And then he noticed something else.

His coffee maker was on. It had just been set to brew. And there was a mug waiting on the counter beside it.

The rest of the apartment was beyond clean. It was almost OCD-level tidy. Whomever had cleaned his apartment would not have done all of this and left a mug out of place. Unless they planned to use it. Which meant...

Mike heard his door lock click into place and he whirled around.

"Hello, Mike-baby. It's so nice to finally meet. Face-to-face." The man stepped into the light and mike took a good look at him. He had short, curly blonde hair, the soft facial features of a man with a desk job but the build of someone that goes to the gym often. All together, he was an average-looking, unremarkable man.

"I-I'm not your baby." Mike said shakily. He cleared his throat. "Get out. If you get out now I won't press charges. I don't even know your name."

"Oh, that's rude of me. My name is Zachary." The man took a few steps forward and mike backed up until he felt the counter behind him. "I hope you don't mind that I cleaned up a bit while I waited for you to come home. You're late."

"Seriously, get out of my apartment! I'm calling the police." Mike reached for his cellphone but the man pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

"I wouldn't." Zachary moved even closer. "What were you doing so late at work? That boss of yours is handsome." Mike wouldn't answer. "You don't have to answer. I don't really need to hear you speak." The last thing Mike saw was the butt of the gun before he felt a pain explode on the side of his head and he passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next have graphic rape in it. Trigger warnings apply for sure. Be careful.

Mike woke with a pounding headache, but when he tried to move his arms, they wouldn't. He craned his neck and saw that his wrists were cuffed, and that the cuffs around his wrists were attached to the black bar along the back of the bedframe. It was a cheap bedframe, but it was metal and wouldn't budge. This set up confused Mike. What was the point? He was lying in a bed that wasn't his own with a thin sheet lying over him. The small digital clock on the nightstand read 1:30 AM.

Mike suddenly became aware of the fact that Zachary was sitting in a chair next to the bed, just watching him. They looked at each other for a moment.

"What do you want?" Mike asked finally.

"You'll know soon enough. But I'm not in a hurry." Zachary sat back and continued staring at Mike with a intensity that made the young man uncomfortable.

"How do you know me?" Mike asked slowly. Maybe if he could figure out who this man was and what he wanted, he could make him leave. "I have a pretty good memory for faces. And yours is not familiar."

"I'm not that surprised. No one ever notices me. I'm invisible when I want to be." Zachary put his hands behind his head. "That's why it was so easy to get you here. No one ever notices me, my friend."

"I'm not your friend." Mike snapped, and he instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say. Zachary's eyes narrowed in what looked like anger, but there was something else there too.

"You say such hurtful things, baby. I wouldn't, if I were you." Zachary stood and ripped the sheet covering Mike off the bed and tossed it aside. Mike was only wearing his boxers. "You see, no one before you has ever understood me. But the second I saw you, I dared to hope you were different."

This boy was truly a wonder. Firm but not bulging muscles, boyish features with big expressive blue eyes, and that perfect mix of street smart and college-educated. Zachary couldn't stop himself from running his hands over the bare skin, tracing every ripple in his muscle.

"What...What are you doing?" Mike tried to move away but couldn't go very far. Zachary just moved his hands lower until they were playing with the waistband of his underwear. "Stop!"

"Are you really sure that's what you want?" Zachary ran his hands back up to Mike's nipples and tweaked them. "Your body doesn't seem to mind."

"Please. Just stop." Mike whispered. Zachary saw the fear in the man's eyes and it was like the finest of wines to him. Intoxicating, exotic, and promising.

"Just relax." Zachary ran a hand up and down Mike's torso once more and then returned to taking off the boxers. He ripped off the soft fabric so fast Mike barely registered the movement. One minute he was wearing them, the next he was naked.

"What are you doing? Just let me go!" Mike's voice rose in panic and he tried to pull his legs to his chest. Zachary pulled each leg back out slowly as Mike fought with him.

"Relax, Mike-baby. You might find yourself enjoying this. Stop fighting me!" The larger man continued struggling with his captive until finally his patience wore out. He pulled out his pistol again and showed it to Mike. "You see this?" Mike's eyes widened.

"Yes."

"Then be a good boy and stop fighting me." Zachary placed the gun on the nightstand beside the desk. He then climbed onto the bed between Mike's legs and slowly ran his fingers down the inside of the Mike's thighs. "This won't hurt."

Mike closed his eyes as if he could block out the sounds by doing so. As Zachary's hands slowly stroked his member to hardness and the man's mouth wrapped around him, the man made obscene sucking noises. Mike flushed with shame as he felt the moans of unwanted pleasure forcing their way through his vocal chords. He wasn't gay. He really wasn't. But his body didn't seem to know that as the tightness grew inside him, burning his nerves like acid. Just as he was about to climax, Zachary stopped.

As much as Zachary wanted to taste Mike, he had a special liking for bringing boys to the edge of the cliff and then letting them dangle at the precipice. So he climbed off Mike and watched him writhe and squirm and moan with unreleased pressure. Mike was aware of Zachary getting off the bed, but it wasn't until the pleasurable pain had receded slightly that he saw the man undressing.

"P-Please..." Mike managed to say. Zachary stood over him, savoring the fear in the younger man's eyes, still cloudy from pressure.

"I'm sorry, you'll need to speak up, baby." Zachary straddled him once again.

"Please...l-let me go." Mike felt the tears start down his face. "I just want to go h-home."

"Oh, no, baby. We haven't even gotten to the best part." Zachary leaned down close to his ear. "I'm sorry it has to be this way, baby. But like I said, be nice and this won't hurt."

Mike felt Zachary's erect member press against his buttock and suddenly his brain went into panic mode. Mike lashed out with his legs and managed to kick the man off of him. Zachary fell backward with a shout and crashed onto the floor hard but he didn't stay down for long.

"You little bitch!" Zachary grabbed the gun from the table and hit Mike in the head with it. Mike was to stunned from the blow to even react as Zachary flipped him over to his back. Vaguely, Mike realized that the way he was chained to the bed allowed for that.

"I'm sorr-" Mike tried to stutter out, but he was cutoff as Zachary pushed him down onto the bed.

"You like it rough? I'll give it to rough." Zachary grabbed both of Mike's buttocks and spread them, enjoying the sight. "I was going to make this pleasurable for you, but now..." He grabbed Mike by the hair and yanked his head painfully upward as he shoved a finger inside the man. "I'm going to fuck you like a common little street whore." He forced another finger in and scissored them as Mike cried out in pain.

"Please stop!" Mike begged. He felt the man's fingers retreat and he allowed himself to feel relief as his hair was finally released.

Zachary jammed his erection into Mike with backbreaking force, feeling Mike's muscle's clench around him. Even with the slight preparation, Mike was tight.

"Oh baby, that is good." Zachary moaned. He started moving with rhythmic thrusts, building up a rhythm even as Mike thrashed around beneath him. Mike screamed and screamed as a strange, wet slapping sound filled the air. Zachary was true to his words. He pounded Mike into the mattress with groans of ecstasy and his rough hands dug into Mike's shoulders, then his hips as he was ridden. A hand found its way under Mike and started roughly pumping him to hardness. Mike was vaguely aware of wondering how such a violent action could produce such a reaction.

Suddenly, a jolt of pleasure stabbed through Mike and he couldn't help the muffled sound of pleasure. Zachary heard it and deliberately hit that spot inside Mike over and over grabbed Mike's head

Mike was aware of the strangest sensations. He was in agonizing pain, the worst pain he had ever felt. It was splitting him in half with every brutal thrust. It was made worse for Mike as jolts of savage, painful orgasmic energy shot through him. He felt the thrusts moving faster and his orgasm ripped through like a bullet.

Zachary's seed splashed into him, filling the spaces in his abused bowels and overflowing back out onto the mattress. It was accompanied by a guttural sound from Mike's tormentor as he slumped over the smaller man, still inside Mike. Finally, he pulled out with a wet 'pop'. Mike was in so much pain he was practically numb from it. Zachary slowly turned the now-unresponsive man back over onto his back.

"I hope that was as good for you as it was for me." Zachary searched Mike's face, but the blue eyes wouldn't meet his. Mike stared blankly to the side, and a small part of Zachary felt sad. The whole ordeal had taken only half-an-hour. "I really do wish you were different, baby. The things we could have been together." He kissed Mike's cheek, earning a slight shudder, then covered him with the sheet. Mike heard the door open and close, but he waited for a minute to make sure the man was gone.

He started trembling, then shaking violently. What had just happened was overloading his brain. Finally, he just cried. His whole body hurt from the savage thrusts, the man's hands digging into his hips, his shoulders, his ribs. There would be bruises. It felt like he had wet the bed because there was a puddle of semen and probably blood under him.

Sometime after three in the morning, Mike fell into a restless, nightmare-ish slumber. His phone quietly lit up in the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still graphic.

Mike woke slowly three hours later and immediately wished he could sleep a little longer. His face felt dry and tight from the dried tears he hadn't been able to wipe away. The puddle of blood and semen on the bed had dried, but Mike could feel wetness still trickling out of him. He was definitely bleeding.

Mike shut his eyes when he heard the door open and close. Heavy footsteps echoed across the room and stopped in front of the bed. Mike hoped he would just go away, but it was a futile hope.

"I know you're awake, Michael." Zachary's voice rang through the air. "You might as well open your eyes."

Mike opened his eyes and looked at his captor. Zachary had a tray with a bowl of soup on it.

"I thought you might be hungry." Zachary watched as Mike's eyes followed the tray when he set it down. "Now, I don't trust you enough yet to uncuff you, so I'm going to feed it to you, ok?" Mike nodded slowly, afraid of what would happen if he refused. Zachary carefully fed Mike, spoonful by spoonful, taking his time and wiping Mike's chin with a napkin. "There, that's better." He took the sheet off of Mike even as the smaller man whimpered at the loss of his only covering. The stain was apparent. "Oh, that looks uncomfortable. I'll be back with some clean sheets in a while. Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Mike nodded. Zachary unchained him and let him use the toilet, but only after a warning with the gun and with the door open. Mike was loathe to lay back down and be chained up, but he was persuaded by a swift punch to the abdomen. Zachary chained him back up again and his hands lingered on mike's body for a few seconds too long.

Then he was gone and Mike was alone again. He craned his neck to look down and saw the evidence of the night before. Mike kept his eyes shut tightly again and slept for awhile. He wasn't sure how long Zachary took to come back, but when he did he was in a bad mood.

"I think I know how you got your job at the firm. It certainly wasn't your law school credentials." Zachary's voice took on a icy tone. Mike slowly opened his tear-crusted eyes and his blue eyes met Zachary's. They were truly the most beautiful eyes Zachary believed he had ever seen. They were like two pools of clear water that lead straight to Mike's soul. The fear and intensity that they had shown last night were enough to make the man crazy. He almost lost himself in Mike's eyes when he remembered that he had a question for Mike, one he had better answer.

"P-please..." Mike rasped out. His throat was raw and painful from screaming. "I want to go home."

"I know, baby. I know." Zachary stroked Mike's cheek. "You know, your boss has called you six times today. Why is that?" Mike just stared at him, so Zachary tried again. "Tell me the truth and I won't be mad."

"H-he's my boss." Mike said quietly. "Th-there is a m-meeting today."

"A meeting? That's why he called you six times?" Zachary repeated quietly. Mike nodded. He wrapped his hands around Mike's throat and squeezed. "Do I look like an idiot to you? Do I?" Mike gasped for air. The grip on his throat was tight, but it wasn't cutting his air off completely. "Are you fucking that uptight suit?"

"N-NO!" Mike choked out.

Zachary straddled Mike for a better grip. Mike's eyes bugged out and he tried to get away. "I know you are, you little slut. Tell me the truth!" But Mike couldn't answer, Zachary's grip had tightened too much. Zachary felt himself getting hard and decided to act upon it. He released his grip on Mike's throat to remove his pants.

"Stop...Stop!" Mike gasped, but he could barely be heard. Zachary climbed back on the bed and placed himself between Mike's legs, pulled the smaller man up a little, and pushed himself slowly into the younger man. Mike was still on his back so he saw Zachary's face contort into a fearsome rage.

"Is this how your precious suit does it?" Zachary thrust roughly inside Mike, causing him to cry out in pain. He wrapped his hands around Mike's throat again. "Shut up, you little slut! I know you pretended it was him last night when we were fucking!" Zachary continued to thrust, but no matter what he did Mike wouldn't respond to him. He had gone limp and he was just letting Zachary ride him. Zachary climaxed, but he was slightly miffed that Mike had not. He climbed off the man and left the room only to return minutes later. Mike eyed the objects in his hands fearfully.

"Please...no..." Mike tried to moved away but Zachary grabbed each foot and tied them to the bedframe so Mike was spread-eagle. Then he plugged in the vibrator. Mike begged Zachary not to use the massive thing but Zachary just smiled.

"Maybe this will remind you of your boss." Zachary forced the lubed-up vibrator deep inside Mike and switched it on. He watched with sick glee as the man writhed and moaned as his anus was stretched too far and the vibrator did its job. Mike's eyes rolled back in his head and sounds of ecstasy escaped him.

"N-n-no m-m-more..."Mike stammered out. But Zachary just shrugged.

"This is a lesson. Don't lie to me ever again. I'll be back." And with that, he left Mike with the obscenely buzzing toy trapped inside him.

Twenty minutes later, Zachary returned and found Mike was almost catatonic. The blue eyes that he loved so much were dull and glassy, devoid of any life. Zachary panicked. He removed the vibrator and rubbed the life back into Mike slowly with his hands. When Mike was aware again, Zachary untied his legs and uncuffed his hands.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I don't know what I was doing. I believe that you didn't sleep with that man." Zachary pulled Mike into a sort of embrace, and Mike just held onto him. He was too physically and mentally exhausted to do much else. He just wanted to go home. Then he had an idea.

"H-harvey's going to keep calling me..."

"And?" Zachary asked.

"If-if I tell him I qu-quit, he'll l-leave us alone." Mike forced himself to look into Zachary's eyes with the best puppy eyes he could muster.

Not even Harvey could completely resist the puppy eyes. Even at their weakest level, the puppy eyes were powerful against the untrained. Zachary was no match for them.

"How do I know you aren't trying to trick me?" Zachary asked. Mike gathered what remained of his strength and courage to kiss his tormentor passionately. Zachary, shocked at first, soon went along with it. "Ok, baby. But first...let's take a shower."

Mike held onto the hope of a phone call as Zachary came up behind him in the shower.

* * *

"Donna, where the hell is Mike?" Harvey practically yelled into the intercom. Donna entered his office.

"I may be a secretary, but don't yell at me. Second of all, I don't know. I didn't know the first time you asked me. Or the second, the third or the fourth." The red head put her hands on her hips. "You're in charge of him."

"I know that." Harvey had been to the meeting without Mike and had been every bit as confident and successful as usual. But he was still mad.

"How many times have you called him?" Donna asked. Harvey paused. As if Donna didn't know.

"Seven."

"No answer?" Donna was beginning to worry even though she didn't have much to go on besides a gut-feeling.

"Yes. He answered the first time I called. I just like bothering him. No! He hasn't answered." Harvey answered sarcastically. "He better not be getting high."

"Or what? You'll fire him? Come on, Harvey. Even I know that's not true." Donna rolled her eyes and left the office. "At least let him explain when he does answer."

"He better have a damn good excuse for pulling this shit." Harvey grumbled. Finally, he flipped open his phone again and dialed the familiar number. The phone rang and rang and Harvey almost hung up when the other side picked up. "Mike? Where the hell are you?"

"H-Harvey...I can't come into work today." mike's voice was barely recognizable. It was weak, raspy and filled with an emotion Harvey recognized. His many years as a lawyer had given him the ability to pick up on emotions even over the phone. Mike's voice was saturated with pure terror, but there was also something else. The kid sounded almost dazed.

"Mike, what's going on?" Harvey asked harshly. He put the phone on speaker on his desk so Donna could hear it.

"I can't come in today." Mike repeated.

"Kid, you have to tell me what's going on." Harvey said with more patience.

"Harvey, help-" Mike's frantic voice was cut off by the muffled sounds of a struggle.

"Mike? Mike!" Harvey yelled. He motioned for Donna to come in. He heard a cry of pain he recognized as Mike's and then two gunshots. Donna covered her mouth as Harvey stared in shock at her.

"Harvey?" Mike's weak voice rang through.

"Mike! What the fuck just happened?" Harvey practically shouted. A long pause.

"He's dead." Mike said simply.

"Where are you?" Harvey asked. He looked over to where Donna was already calling 9-1-1.

"I...I don't know." Harvey heard Mike sniffle. "My shoulder hurts."

"Ok, kid. We're calling 9-1-1, they'll trace your cellphone. Put pressure on your shoulder." Harvey squeezed his hands into fists. He felt useless, something he was not used to.

"Harvey don't hang up!" Mike sounded frantic. Harvey grabbed the cellphone and took it off speaker.

"Mike, I'm not hanging up."

"Please!"

"I swear I won't." Harvey pinch the bridge of his nose. "What happened?"

"Um...The calls n-never stopped." Mike said slowly. "And then...he was...he was in my apartment...He took me somewhere...And he..." Mike started hyperventilating.

"Whoa, kid. Calm down, it's ok." Donna signaled Harvey from where she had called the police, and he nodded. "Mike, the police will be there soon, ok? I'm going to stay with you on the phone until they get there."

"Ok." Mike paused. "How did...how did the meeting go?" Harvey rolled his eyes. Only Mike would ask about the meeting, but Harvey would do anything to keep him on the phone. He told him about his perfect speech, the looks on the clients' faces, the way they argued, everything Harvey could remember. After what seemed like decades, he heard the sound of the police in the background. He spoke to Mike as the paramedics loaded him up, as Ray drove Harvey to the hospital that Mike was taken to, hanging up only when Mike informed him that the nurses were going to take his phone.

Harvey burst into the hospital waiting room with Donna and spent the next few hours pacing. Donna, who had never seen her boss so angry, stayed silent. Even the nurses avoided him. Harvey felt slightly disappointed that he would not get the privilege of personally kicking the ass of the man who had dared to hurt his puppy of an associate, and dare he say, his friend.


	5. Chapter 5

Harvey had long since allowed Donna to pull him into one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room He was furious. All the doctor had told him was that Mike was out of surgery and that he was sleeping off the anesthesia. Since Harvey wasn't Mike's immediate family or emergency medical contact, the doctor would tell him much besides that. All he knew was that Mike had been in bad shape when the police finally found him. Mike's grandma had been contacted, but she was sick and wasn't allowed to the leave the nursing home. While he was waiting with Donna, a police officer approached him. This was the detective in charge, Detective Smith.

"Harvey Specter?" Smith approached the well-dressed man sitting with the red head.

"Yes." Harvey snapped.

"I'm Detective Smith, I was there at the time Mike was found." He shook hands with Harvey. "You were the one on the phone with Michael, right?"

"Yes, Detective." Harvey ran a hand through his hair. "He called me and I had Donna call the police."

"Right. Do you know anything about the nature of his injuries?" Smith asked carefully. Harvey raised an eyebrow. Smith was keeping something from him.

"No. All the doctors will tell me is that he's out of surgery." Harvey raised his voice and made eye contact with the nurse on duty at the end of the sentence. She just rolled her eyes. "Why? Is there something I should know?"

"Mr. Spector, are you and Mr. Ross close?" Smith asked. Harvey started to answer when Donna butted in.

"Michael is his friend." Donna returned Harvey's look with one of her own. "He's about as close a friend you can be with this man."

"Then I won't tell you much, but I can say we have the gun that was used to shoot Mr. Ross in the shoulder and the suspect in the stomach." Smith steeled himself for what he had to say next. "The suspect was unconscious when we arrived on the scene. He was taken to a different hospital."

Harvey froze his face into a mask. "He's alive?"

"Last I heard, yes. He's in critical condition." Smith hated this part of the job when the bad guys got lucky.

"Mike thinks that bastard is dead." Harvey said softly, more to himself than anyone else. "Detective, what did he do to Mike?"

"Sir, I can't tell you much. All I can say is this man, this Zachary, fixated on Mr. Ross. Maybe for weeks or even months. As far as we can tell, he kidnapped Mr. Ross and brought him back to his home where he was subjected to extensive torture." Smith stopped. He had probably already told this man more than he should have. Harvey looked murderous, and the red head Smith assumed was Donna had tears falling down her pale face.

"What exactly did that... _man_ do to Mike?" Harvey spoke through gritted teeth. Smith didn't have to answer though as the doctor came into the room.

"Harvey Specter, Michael Ross is awake and he's asking for you." The doctor motioned for him to follow. Harvey followed him silently to the sterile white room that Mike was in. The young man lying in the bed looked like Mike. But there was something wrong with his eyes. They were dead.

"Hey, kiddo." Harvey said softly.

"Harvey." Mike said so softly Harvey barely heard it.

"Yeah, I'm right here." Harvey sat in the chair next to the bed and awkwardly took Mike's hand in his own, noticing how Mike flinched away from the touch before gripping his hand tightly. "How do you feel?"

"Hurts." Mike said softly. Harvey looked at the doctor, who reached over to adjust the morphine drip.

"This should help you sleep." The doctor said kindly.

"Harvey. Stay." Mike said as he fought to keep his eyes open.

"Ok, kid. I'll be here." Harvey waited until Mike's hand went limp with unconsciousness. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Specter, Michael has authorized me to tell you the full extent of his injuries. I told him he didn't have to, but..." The doctor shrugged. "He insisted and even signed the paperwork."

"What happened to him?" Harvey asked. He didn't want to hear the doctor's explanation. He wasn't going to sue over privacy issues.

"His most pressing injury was a bullet wound in his shoulder that was bleeding profusely. It needed immediate attention. There were also signs of an extended period of torture." The doctor sighed.

"What aren't you telling me?" Harvey stood, releasing Mike's limp hand. "What do you mean by torture?"

"There are bruises on his neck, shoulders, and hips along with some deep contusions on his lower abdomen. There are deep ligature marks on his wrists and shallower ones on his ankles, suggesting he was restrained for most of the time he was in captivity."

"Jesus." Harvey looked down at the man on the bed, and suddenly whipped around to the doctor. "Why was he restrained?"

"Mr. Specter, I think you should sit down." He sighed when Harvey made no move to do so. "There was pretty extensive anal tearing and bleeding. We performed a reconstruction surgery and stopped the bleeding." The doctor looked at the lawyer who had gone white and looked like he might throw up.

"What are you saying?" Harvey knew, but he allowed a small part of himself to hope he was wrong.

"Mr. Specter, Michael was raped. And judging by the severity or the tearing, more than once. I assume some sort of...anal vibrator was used on him for an extended amount of time." The doctor looked at Mike with pity in his eyes. Harvey was silent. "Mr. Specter?"

"I should have helped him more. I should have stopped this from happening." Harvey covered his eyes with his hand as if he could block out the images that filled his head. "He's not even gay."

"Mr. Specter, with all due respect, that has very little to do with these types of situations generally." The doctor watched Harvey sit back down next to Mike. "He needs someone to listen to him, not judge him. He's probably going to feel very ashamed and maybe blame himself."

"I know." Harvey sighed. "Thank you doctor. I want to be alone with Mike."

"I understand." He turned to leave the men alone.

"Actually, could you send in Donna please?" Harvey asked. Donna was better with this comfort-feeling stuff if Mike woke up again.

It was going to be a long day.


	6. Chapter 6

Harvey was not one to dwell on emotions generally. They were more a hindrance than a help in his opinion, especially when it came to his profession. It didn't pay to become attached to clients. If he wanted to do that, he would have stayed a poor pro-bono attorney. But Harvey would be lying to himself if he said Mike's ordeal didn't tug at his soul. Seeing the young man lying in that hospital bed connected to machines and tubes with those lifeless eyes was dredging up emotions in the great Harvey Specter.

It was worse when Harvey had to tell Mike that Zachary was still alive, even if he was comatose. The older man had sat down on the edge of the small hospital bed, minding the IV drip, and taken Mike's hand. The look in Mike's eyes, the pure fear even through the haze of morphine, made Harvey's stomach churn. Harvey squeezed Mike's hand and didn't fight when Mike awkwardly wrapped his arms around him and just held on. Harvey rested his chin on his associate's head.

"I'm sorry, Mike."

* * *

Mike was only conscious for about twelve hours at this point in intermittent gaps between sleep. In those times, Harvey tried to make sure that either he or Donna was there with him. When Donna was there, Mike would listen to her as she gossiped about the other associates. It was amazing how much she knew about everyone. Sometimes she would just sit with him while he slept, watching the slight frown on his face that even the drugs couldn't erase. Mike appreciated that more, he decided.

Harvey brought files with him when he visited Mike. At first, Donna had violently reprimanded him for doing so. But Mike had asked Harvey so many questions about the firm the first time he was lucid, the lawyer just brought the cases with him so he could answer them all. Sometimes Mike didn't really look at them at all. He just felt...better when Harvey was there. Watching Harvey pace back and forth, talking into his phone to clients or Jessica or Louis, was all that Mike could do some days. The pain in his body was still there, dulled by drugs and chemicals that Mike had memorized. The lighter bruises were beginning to turn yellow.

But Harvey and Donna could not be there all the time. Sometimes he would wake to find no one sitting in the chair by his side, and it during these times that Mike felt a pain no drug could dull. He felt hollow, as if his very essence had been removed leaving nothingness in its place. Therefore, Mike didn't mind when Harvey seemed to ignore him in favor of his cellphone or Donna stared at him with pity-filled eyes. It was better than being alone.

There had been times though when he wished he had been alone. Harvey was there the first time he had to be inspected by his doctor. Harvey had stayed with Mike as the doctor check each of his injuries in turn, rambling about work. Mike had wished Harvey would shut up and leave because he didn't want him to see everything that had happened.

It was easier to forget that way.

* * *

"Mike, we need your statement." The police officer stood by his bed. Mike looked at him with his pain-filled blue eyes. His pain medication was being lowered as he healed so he wouldn't develop an addiction, and the police had decided to finally get his official statement. But them an in front of him wasn't the kind, sympathetic detective he had met a few times before. This man was also on the case, but he there was something entirely unfriendly about him.

"Can we wait just a few more minutes?" Mike asked. "Harvey said he would be here at two." The clock read five before two. The officer rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. Mike looked at his hands and picked at his fingernails even though they were spotlessly clean. Something about the man in the room with him made him uncomfortable. Precisely at five, Harvey strode past the officer and took his usual place at Mike's bedside.

"Are you Harvey Specter?" The officer asked as he pulled out his notepad.

"Yes. And you are?" Harvey noticed the way Mike looked at the man.

"I'm Stanley Morre. I'm second in command of this case." Morre shifted his weight and frowned with importance. "Mr. Ross wouldn't start without you."

"He asked me to be here." Harvey said shortly.

"As his boss?"

"As his boss, legal counsel..." He looked into Mike's eyes, then back at Morre. "Where's the detective?"

"He's in court on another case." Morre stated. "Now can please get started?"

Mike nodded.

"Do you have any prior connections with the suspect, Mr. Ross?" Morre waited for Mike to answer. The young man looked at Harvey for reassurance and received a small nod.

"Not that I can recall." Mike said quietly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure I never met him before he..." Mike trailed off.

"So you never met him? You never spoke to him?" Mike shook his head. "Never gave him any reason to think you were interested in him?"

"No!" Mike sat up a little more and winced in pain. Harvey placed a hand on his arm gently to push him back down.

"What was the nature of your first encounter with him?" Morre asked without even looking up.

"He called my cellphone. At first I thought it was a wrong number. But..." Mike swallowed hard. "He kept calling me."

"And how long did this go on for?"

"Um...about four days." Mike replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You can check my phone records to be certain." Mike looked at Harvey who was watching the officer. "On the fourth day I came home from work and...and he was in my apartment."

"Did he force his way in?"

"No he must have gotten a key or picked the lock." Mike shrugged.

"Did he have a firearm?"

"Yes. He had a pistol of some kind." Mike shivered slightly. Harvey noticed and placed a warm hand on Mike's wrist. "He used it to knock me out. When I woke up, I was in a room I didn't recognize."

"And this is where the bulk of the assault happened?" Morre asked dryly. Mike nodded. "What exactly happened?"

"He had me handcuffed to a bed. He came in and...and he took off my boxers..." Mike started shaking. "Um, he threatened me with the gun if I struggled."

"Mr. Ross what happened?"

"He g-gave me a blow job." Mike's lower lip trembled. "And then he told me me that wasn't the end. I got sc-scared and kicked him when he said he wanted s-sex." Tears formed in his eyes that he tried to hold back. "He got really mad and told me he wasn't going to be g-gentle."

"And this is when the suspect sexually assaulted you?" Morre's tone bothered Harvey. Of people, Harvey understood being clinically emotionless. But this man was almost disapproving, and Mike could hear it too.

"Y-yes." Mike grabbed at Harvey's hand and squeezed it so hard he was surprised no bones snapped. In reality, Mike was still pretty weak and his grip wasn't all that tight. "I can't keep going. Can we do this later?"

"We need your statement while it's still fresh in your mind. Please just relax." Morre finished in a hard voice. "Mr. Ross, how many times did he perform anal sex with you?"

"Why does it matter?" Mike asked shakily.

"Mr. Ross, if we don't have all the details then we can't truly piece together what actually happened to you." Morre said, mildly annoyed. "Frankly, I need you to man up right now and tell me the whole story."

"That's enough. Mike's answered enough questions for today." Harvey stood. "I want to speak with your superiors about your questioning."

"Sir, I understand your concern for your friend. But his statement is going to evidence-" Harvey cut the man off.

"You do not tell someone who has gone through something like this to just 'man up', you self-important prick." Harvey stood in front of Mike's bed, and Mike just watched his boss in action. "Detective Smith will hear about this, but for now I want you to leave. Mike said he was done for the day."

Morre closed his notepad and walked out the door with out a word.

"Dude..." Mike said between fast breaths. "You are awesome."

"Thanks. And don't call me that." Harvey sat back down next to him. "You ok?"

"Yeah. I think so." Mike wrung his hands together.

"Bullshit." Harvey called him on that one.

"What?"

"You heard me. I know you don't want to talk about what happened to you right now but don't lie to me." Harvey's piercing eyes met Mike's. He held the gaze until Mike's lip started trembling again and Harvey had to strain to hear what he said next.

"Why me? What did I do to deserve this?" Mike bowed his head and watched drops of moisture drop onto the blanket. Harvey was shocked.

"Nothing." Harvey answered sternly. He sat on the bed with Mike. "Do you hear me?" Mike nodded. Harvey felt the urge to pull the kid into a hug, but he didn't want to spook him. The doctor had advised Harvey to let Mike initiate all physical contact.

"Harvey?" Mike asked quietly. "They're letting me out of here soon, right?"

"Yeah."

"I kept saying, when I was with _him_ , that I wanted to go home." Mike wiped his eyes briskly. "But I can't go back to my apartment. _He_ was in there."

"You're staying with me for awhile. The doctor said you can't be alone for awhile anyways." Harvey said matter-of-factly.

"I can't-" Mike began.

"You can't stay with your grandma at the nursing home. So it's either me or Donna. And trust me, you do not want that." Harvey allowed himself the slightest smile when Mike's eyes flashed the first emotion he had seen in days.

"Thanks, Harvey." Mike said sincerely. He squeezed Harvey's hand again and the older man ruffled his hair affectionately. "Stop that."

"Oh yeah, because you put so much work into styling your hair this morning." Harvey dared to joke. Mike smiled slightly and a little of the haunted look left his eyes for a moment. But it came back just as quickly.

Harvey sat with Mike for a couple of hours until he had to go back to the firm. Mike watched him go as a nurse came in to adjust his pain medication again. He was tired from talking and soon drifted into another nightmare.


	7. Chapter 7

_Mike was in his small hospital bed waiting for the sun to rise so he could leave and go to Harvey's place. He couldn't take being in this sterile room anymore. He closed his eyes as the sleeping aids took effect and left himself begin to drift off. Suddenly a rough hand covered his mouth and another batted his hand away from the call-button._

_"No sleep for you Mike baby." Zachary loomed over his bed._

"Mike wake up. It's alright." Harvey released Mike's wrist as the younger man woke with a jerk. He waited until Mike's blue eyes cleared and recognition crossed them. "You ok, kiddo?"

Mike nodded. He wanted to talk to Harvey but he was still shaking from his nightmare and Harvey looked exhausted.

"Ok. Well, I had some of your things moved to my spare room. You'll be ready to go in the morning." Harvey waited until Mike fell asleep again.

* * *

Mike was sitting awkwardly in the car next to Harvey. He had just been discharged from the hospital with strict instructions about medications and not exerting himself. His medication would be wearing off by the time he reached Harvey's place. Harvey was waiting for him. He helped a blushing Mike into the wheelchair the hospital provided and pushed away his tension when Mike flinched every time he was touched. Once outside, Harvey helped Mike into Ray's car and tried not to notice how Mike sat as far away as possible from him. He didn't want to push Mike's boundaries.

Mike tried not to flinch when Harvey helped him, but he couldn't help it. He knew Harvey wasn't going to hurt him but he couldn't seem to tell his subconscious that. He just wanted to push the memories into the furthest corner of his mind and forget, but with a photographic memory it was impossible. He sighed in relief when the car pulled up beside Harvey's building.

Harvey walked around to the other side and reached for Mike.

"I can do it myself." Mike said quietly. Harvey stepped back and let Mike get out of his car slowly. Mike winced as he walked. Suddenly pain shot through his lower back and he stumbled. Harvey caught him and he tried to push his off.

"Mike, please." Harvey said sternly. "Let me help you. Please, just let me help you." He said softer. His worried-filled eyes met Mike's and Mike let the concern in Harvey's voice wash over him. The two men made their way to the elevator and Mike leaned on Harvey.

Finally, Harvey unlocked his door and made his way to the couch in the living area. Mike collapsed into it and let himself relax. He was winded and in pain from his fading medication. Harvey strode into his kitchen and returned with a glass of water.

"Mike, you need to take your meds." Harvey handed him the glass and the pills, one for pain and one for infection. Mike took them numbly.

"Shouldn't I take these with food or something?" Mike asked.

"Only if you feel like you can stomach something." Harvey sat beside him. "Can you?"

Mike shook his head. His stomach was turning on him.

"Ok then. I have the day off." Harvey said slowly.

"Meaning you'll be working at home today." Mike said. "Jessica would never give you a real day off."

"True. But I'll be here if you need anything." Harvey said sincerely.

"Thanks, Harvey."

* * *

Harvey thought the day was going relatively well. Mike napped while he worked and they watched a movie later that night. Mike even managed to eat a little of the soup that Harvey ordered in. Mike went to bed around ten o'clock and Harvey stayed up to continue working. He headed to his own room around one o'clock and fell asleep almost instantly.

Around two o'clock, he was woken by a small sound. He woke up and scrubbed his eyes with his hand. He almost fell back asleep when he heard it again.  
Harvey climbed slowly out of bed and reached for the bat he kept by the bed. Havey made his way silently to the hallway and listened. He heard the noise of a shower coming from Mike's room and was about to turn around when he heard a crash.

"Mike?" Harvey tried the door and found that it was unlocked. He rushed in and flipped on the lights to find Mike on the floor. He was clutching his head and trying to push himself into a sitting position.

"Jesus, mike. What happened?" Harvey bent down to help Mike stand up. Mike pulled away with a whimper and Harvey sat back on his heels. "Mike, I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax."

Mike slowly met Harvey's eyes and nodded. "I hit my head." Mike moved his hand so Harvey could see. There was an angry red line that stood out on Mike's forehead. Harvey looked at the man in front of him and was struck by how young he looked. In his pajamas with those sad blue eyes, Mike looked like a little kid.

"Ok, kiddo. I'm going to take a closer look ok?" Mike allowed Harvey to lightly touch the red spot. "I don't think it's anything serious, just a bruise. How did it happen?"

"I fell out of bed." Mike blushed.

"Why?"

"Bad dream." Mike's eyes were downcast once again.

"I see." Harvey said awkwardly. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Mike said softly. "I can't."

"Ok then." Harvey was silent for a moment. "Do you want a glass of water or something?" Harvey asked awkwardly. Mike shook his head.

"I should try to go back to sleep." Mike said and stood shakily. Harvey stood with him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You know where I am if you need something." Harvey searched Mike's face. Mike nodded. "I mean it, Mike."

"Careful, Harvey. You sound like you care." Mike joked half-heartedly. Harvey patted his shoulder lightly and smiled.

"Goodnight, Mike."

Harvey had barely settled back into his large bed with egyptian cotton sheets when he heard a voice.

"H-Harvey?" Mike was in his doorway, looking scared and embarrassed and sad.

"Mike, what's wrong?" Harvey asked as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Nothing's wrong, really..." Mike shifted. "I was just...um...I thought maybe I would sleep better if you were...if you were in the room." Harvey could see the blush on Mike's face from across the room when he turned on the lamp.

Maybe it was the late hour, or the look on Mike's face, or a combination of everything that had happened to him. Harvey wasn't sure what made him make up his mind. But the big brother in him roared to life after years of silence and he couldn't say no.

"I'll sleep on the floor." Mike said hurriedly at Harvey's nod. "You won't even know I'm here."

"Mike, you don't have to sleep on the floor." Harvey said softly. Mike let Harvey approach him, take his arm, and lead him to the bed.

"Harvey, you don't-" mike began.

"Mike." Harvey said firmly. Mike nodded again.

"Right. Shutting up." Mike said as he laid down. Harvey pulled the covers over him and sat down on the other side of the mattress on top of the covers with his back against the headboard. He remembered sitting like this on his younger brother's bed, waiting for the other to fall asleep.

"Are you ok?" Harvey asked the younger man.

"I'm fine." Mike said with a yawn. Harvey sighed.

"Then try to sleep. I'll be right here." Harvey promised as he slowly began rubbing circles into Mike's neck. It seemed to calm him down a little and Mike relaxed into the pillows. Harvey stayed by Mike's side as the man fell asleep slowly, still rubbing his neck like he had done for his brother many years before.

Harvey dozed off but was awoken about an hour later by soft cries. He looked down blearily at Mike.

"Hey, it's ok. You're safe now. I'll protect you." Harvey continued his mantra of soothing words until Mike settled back into the pillows. He never actually woke fully, but the presence of Harvey seemed to reach his dreams. Like a brother he had never had but always wanted in the back of his mind. Harvey fell back into a light slumber that rang with Mike's scared cries of "stop" and "please don't".


	8. Chapter 8

"Hello, Michael. My name is Dr. Reilly." The petite woman sat in front of Mike in a matching comfortable chair.

"You can call me Mike." He mumbled softly.

"Okay, Mike. I know that this is probably one of the last places you want to be. Many people have a pre-dispostion to think that therapy equals insanity. Therapy equals weakness. Therapy means that something is wrong with you." She leaned forward. "But I am here to tell you that this is untrue on many levels. There is nothing wrong with seeking guidance, especially after a traumatic experience like yours."

"I didn't seek guidance." Mike said suddenly.

"Yes, I realize you are here because the company you work for is making you come here." Dr. Reilly sat back and folded her hands in her lap. Mike watched her and waited for her to ask him questions, or force him to talk about... _it._ But she just studied him.

"Aren't you-" His voice cracked. Mike cleared his throat. "Aren't you supposed to ask me questions? Questions about my childhood, my family, my recent 'traumatic experience' as you put it?"

"Is that what you wish to talk about? What happened to you?"

"Not really."

"Alright. Tell me about your job then." Dr. Reilly watched the mild surprise on her client's face. Most people assumed she would go right for the most obvious issue, but she found that starting off with less personal information led to trust.

"My job?" Mike considered it for a moment, then spoke. "I'm an associate at a law firm. My boss's name is Harvey Spector."

"Ah, yes. I have heard of Harvey. Quite the closer." Dr. Reilly had been consulted in the past for criminal insanity evaluations.

"Yes, the myth lives up to the man."

"Interesting." Dr. Reilly smiled. "You say the myth lives up to the man. Usually people say the man lives up to th myth."

"Most people aren't Harvey. He's actually as good at his job in the court room as everyone says he is. But he's actually better than most people realize behind the scenes. That's where the real magic happens."

"You two must be very close, working together so much." Dr. Reilly studied Mike's face. "You're living with him temporarily, are you not?"

"That's true." Mike was silent for a while. "As for being close...I don't know."

"Care to explain?"

"I suppose we are close. Closer than I realized. He always treated me as though I was just a means to an end, a paperwork slave. But after..." Mike froze. He looked at his therapist's eyes, and saw not pity or even sadness. Just a deep understanding. "After I was found, it's like...He's still the great Harvey Spector, don't get me wrong. But he's...different."

"I see."

"Can I ask you something completely unrelated?" Mike asked, to change the subject. The woman sitting across from him nodded. "Why don't you take notes?"

"I don't have to." She tapped the side of her temple. "I have a condition known as hyperthymestic syndrome. Since I was fifteen, everything I have ever done, seen, smelled, touched, or thought has been locked away in my brain. Permanently."

"You can't forget anything." Mike was in awe for a moment. He had a photographic memory, sure. But it was nothing compared this.

"Somethings are worth remembering."

"I wish I could forget." Mike said quietly, but he stopped. He hadn't meant to say that. Dr. Reilly leaned forward and placed her hand on his knee gently.

"Of all the people you've ever met, I think I can understand the most." She gave his knee a gentle squeeze and then she sat back again. Mike felt vulnerable suddenly.

"Can I...can I go? I feel a little sick."

"This is your session. You may do what you like." Dr. Reilly stood and shook his hand.

"Thank you, I suppose." Mike walked out of his first mandated therapy session.

* * *

"How was it?" Harvey asked. Mike shrugged and continued stirring his soup around. Harvey sighed inwardly. Mike had been staying with him for almost two weeks, and while his physical injuries had been healing well, the younger man refused to eat more than a few bites a day. "You know, I worked hard to get this take-out soup delivered to the apartment." Harvey was rewarded by the smallest of smiles.

"Sorry. I'm just thinking about my therapist. She's different than what I was expecting." Mike forced a spoonful of soup into his stomach.

"Yes, the famous Dr. Reilly." Harvey took his bowl to the kitchen, still talking. "You know, she's a common choice for court consultations. She has a condition-"

"Hyperthymestic syndrome." Mike interjected.

"Right. She's quite the woman." Harvey laughed at Mike's expression. "No, not in that way. Not for a lack of trying. She bats for the other team." Mike's eyes widened.

"Well, I guess I'll go to bed." Mike stood slowly and walked to the kitchen with his uneaten dinner and then went to his bedroom. Harvey stayed awake doing work for a few hours, not commenting when Mike joined him once more in the living room. The older man had finished his night's work as Mike laid his head in his lap. Mike stayed that way until Harvey finished his work, and by that time he was tired enough to sleep without nightmares. Usually.

Tonight though was a nightmare night. Harvey didn't comment as an embarrassed but scared Mike entered his room again. He merely held up the covers and waited for Mike to climb in the bed. He didn't touch Mike on these nights since the first night Mike stayed with him. He merely comforted the young man if he awoke. Harvey's last thought as he drifted to sleep again was that Mike didn't deserve this. Any of this: the nightmares, the sleep deprivation, the fear. None of it.


	9. Chapter 9

Mike started awake, nearly falling out of the bed he had occupied at Harvey's apartment for over a month. He kept expecting Harvey to kick him out, but the closest he ever got were a few half-hearted quips about house guests. He checked the clock and saw that it was six a.m., meaning Harvey must have woken Mike as he got ready for work. Mike debated briefly staying in bed, but he decided to get up. He needed to talk to Harvey.

Harvey was in his kitchen, brewing some coffee and leaning against the counter while he read a newspaper. Mike stood awkwardly in front of him and worked up his courage.

"Harvey, should I go back to work?" The younger man asked shakily.

"That depends." Harvey answered as he folded the paper neatly on the counter. "Do you want to?"

"I don't know. I just feel so...so useless. Like I'm in your way." Mike shrugged slightly. "Don't you get tired of having me around?"

"Listen, kid. You aren't useless. You work on cases from here, so don't worry about it right now. And while it took some getting used to, I'm not tired of having you around." Harvey cocked an eyebrow. "I told you before that you can stay as long as you want."

"Harvey, I have to leave sometime." Mike said quietly.

"I know. And when you're ready, you will." Harvey checked his watch. "I have to go to work."

Mike looked like he was going to say something, but instead he just nodded and crossed his arms over his chest as if he was cold. Harvey hesitated for a moment before he walked briskly out of the apartment leaving the faint scent of expensive cologne in his wake. Mike made his way to the living room and the stack of waiting briefs and papers that needed editing or proofing or whatever. Mike was soon absorbed in the comforting black and white of legal documents, forgetting himself for awhile. He paused briefly for lunch and was watching TV with a sandwich when his cellphone rang. It was Detective Smith's number.

"Hello, Detective." Make answered.

"Michael. How are you doing?" Smith sounded nervous.

"I'm fine, but I doubt that's reason you phoned me."

"I don't know how to tell you this, but you have the right to know." The detective paused. "Mike, Zachary has begun to wake from his coma."

Mike dropped his phone.

* * *

"Hello, Mike." Dr. Reilly smoothed her hands over her blue suit.

"I'm sorry for just barging in on you." Mike fidgeted by the door, hesitant to enter the room.

"It's alright. I have a free hour after lunch. Please, sit down before you fall down. Are you alright?" Dr. Reilly sounded concerned. Mike walked slowly to his chair and just about fell into it.

"I didn't..." Mike took a deep breath. "I didn't know where else to go."

Dr. Reilly waited patiently for mike continue She could tell the young man was nervous, anxious about something. What she really wanted to know was why Mike had come to her instead of talking to Harvey.

"When I first woke up in the hospital, I thought...I was glad that I had shot that man." Mike rubbed the back of his neck as he continued. "It was weird. I felt like...even though my life was changed forever, at least it was over. And then Harvey told me...he told me..." Mike blinked back some tears. "He told me that Z-zachary was still alive, and it was like...like everything changed again."

"Zachary is in a coma, yes?"

"Not...Not anymore. Detective Smith called me today. Zachary has started showing signs of waking up." This time Mike couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face. Dr. Reilly handed him a box of Kleenex which Mike took sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm kind of a mess."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Mike. You're actually handling this better than many in a similar position would."

"How is this "handling" it well?" Mike tried for humor as he gestured to himself. "I'm a mess."

"I would be far more concerned if you weren't." Dr. Reilly leaned forward. "Tell me, why did you come to me instead of Harvey?"

"I needed...I just needed to talk to someone who's job isn't to talk." Mike shook his head. "Wow, that made perfect sense. I guess...I just didn't know what do to and your number was the last one I called on my phone. I Just wanted to tell someone, and I don't know how Harvey will react."

"As honored as I am that you thought of me first, I think you need to tell Harvey sooner rather than later. He'll handle it the way that suits him the most." Dr. Reilly watched her young patient struggle with his thoughts.

"Dr. Reilly...I've been thinking about what you said last week."

"Really?"

"You said that you would always be here to talk...And I feel like I've let my memories fester like a wound." Mike took a deep breath. "I want to talk about what happened."

"If you want to, that's up to you. You can tell me as much, or as little, as you want to." Dr. Reilly watched Mike nod and wring his hands.

A few moments later Mike began to tell his story, about how the calls started and how he ignored them at first. Dr. Reilly listened intently, her unusual memory locking every detail away. She had been a therapist for almost a decade, and she had heard many stories that would give anyone nightmares. She often had them herself. But there was something about Mike's narrative that made her want to take his pain away. The amount of pain he had been subjected to in just a few days and the obvious torment he still felt. Mike reached the part where he asked Zachary to make a phone call to Harvey.

"He told me...He made me take a sh-shower with him." Mike rubbed his eyes again with tissues as tears ran. "I was so...desperate to get away, to call Harvey and h-hear his voice..." Mike trailed off.

"You were in a bad place, Mike. It sounds like Harvey was a life-line for you."

"Yeah. Zachary made me...he made me do things to him in shower. He told me if I didn't 'make an...an effort to enjoy it', I wouldn't get to make my phone call." Mike shuddered and stopped talking.

"You don't have to continue." Dr. Reilly knelt in front of Mike and met his eyes. "Mike, none of this was your fault, or your choice. You did what was necessary to survive, and to get back to the people who care about you."

"I can't get away from him." Mike said suddenly. "During the day, everything I see is connected to him. The coffee maker even reminds me of him. And then at night sometimes, I have nightmares. "I have to seep in Harvey's room at least twice a week." Mike flushed with embarrassment. "I can't believe I just told you that."

"I have a trustworthy face. And nothing you say leaves this room." Dr. Reilly reminded him. Mike smiled a teary smile. He stayed until the hour was up and hugged Dr. Reilly before he left. Dr. Reilly was surprised, but she would never push a patient away.

* * *

Harvey was waiting for Mike when Mike returned.

"You're back early." Mike walked to the kitchen for a glass of water and Harvey watched him. "What?"

"When did you know, Mike?" Harvey said tightly. Mike gripped the counter tightly. Harvey had obviously received a call from the detective as well.

"Right after lunch, I got a call from Detective Smith." Mike turned to face Harvey. "I went to see Dr. Reilly."

"So you called your therapist before you called me?" Harvey snapped. "Why?"

"Because I thought you'd overreact." Mike said softly, recoiling slightly from the look in Harvey's eyes. Harvey softened his gaze and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Mike." Harvey crossed the space to Mike's side. "It's been a long day, hasn't it?"

Mike let out a choked laugh that sounded more like a sob and Harvey caught his associate as he collapsed to the ground. Harvey lowered them both safely to the ground and held Mike tightly as he cried. Mike felt gentle fingers running through his hair and heard a voice murmuring soft words to him. But what he felt most was the warmth of the man who many believed was a cold-hearted bastard.

They were wrong.


	10. Chapter 10

Within the last decade, there were 20 homicides with the same M.O.

Young men in their twenties were kidnapped, restrained, then beaten and raped for days, sometimes weeks. Then they were shot, twice in the head.

The bodies were dumped in secluded places where they weren't found for weeks or even months. In all likelihood, there were more as-of-yet undiscovered bodies in gravel pits, forests, and shallow graves.

Each man was good looking, lived alone, and 12 of the 20 found had reported some form of stalking to the police prior to their abduction. According to family and friends of the victims, each man was well-liked and had set patterns within their daily lives.

No DNA evidence was collected at any of the crime scenes and there were no viable suspects.

Zachary's DNA was collected and entered into CODIS. His DNA was not a match to any known or unknown sample. He was a ghost.

* * *

_Continuation of last chapter_

Mike finally stopped crying, but Harvey just sat on the floor with him. The younger man was exhausted and slumped against his boss's shoulder, just breathing deeply. After what felt like a lifetime, Mike stood shakily and Harvey sat him down on the sofa.

"Can I have a glass of water?" Mike asked hoarsely. Harvey nodded and retrieved the requested refreshment. Neither man said anything while mike sipped at the water and Harvey watched TV. "Harvey, I was thinking..."

"Always dangerous." Harvey teased gently. Mike gave him a small smile.

"What if they find out I didn't really go to Harvard? Or college? There's going to be an investigation, isn't there?" Mike's reddened eyes looked at Harvey. Harvey sighed.

"I probably should have told you this, but it seemed unimportant at the time." Harvey rubbed his eyes tiredly. "The morning you called me from thar place, I had just finalized some details with a gifted...hacker."

"Harvey, you didn't..." Mike started.

"As far as online records show, you attended a small private college and then Harvard. It's airtight and untraceable."

"How much did that cost you?" Mike asked.

"Not as much as you would think. He's a frequent...contact...of mine for difficult computer fraud cases." Harvey shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"You could lose your job." But Mike was touched by Harvey's concern.

"That ship has sailed. Think of this as an investment in my future career." Harvey ruffled Mike's hair and received the customary glare. But it didn't last.

"I visited Dr. Reilly today, you knew that." Mike said suddenly. "I...um...I told her everything."

Harvey nodded but stayed quiet. He sensed that any interruption would cause Mike's walls to come back up.

"He hurt me, Harvey." Mike whispered. "Everything about him hurt me." Without thinking, Mike leaned into Harvey so his cheek was pressed against the older man's sternum and twisted his fingers in Harvey's shirt. Harvey rubbed Mike's back softly, unsure of what else to do with the unexpected contact. "I begged him to stop. But he wouldn't. And there was nothing I could do. I was wasn't st-strong-" Mike's voice broke.

"Hey, kiddo. You're stronger than you realize. You're here. You fought your way out." Harvey felt Mike tense.

"You don't understand. I know the detective and the doctor say my injuries were from...r-rape" Mike stumbled over the word and Harvey flinched. "And the first three times, they were. But...in order to get my phone call...he made me..." Mike took a deep breath but it ended in a shudder. Harvey wrapped his arms around Mike tightly but not painfully, as if trying to protect him from something. "I didn't want to, but...Oh God, Harvey, I was so scared."

Harvey sat quietly, waiting for Mike to continue when he looked down and realized that his associate had fallen asleep. Mike's face wasn't lined with exhaustion or pain when he slept, at least when he was sleeping peacefully, and to Harvey he looked so young and fragile. As Harvey made himself slightly more comfortable, he wondered for the thousandth time how this blue-eye puppy had managed to worm his way into the lawyer's life.


	11. Chapter 11

All Mike wanted was a Starbucks. A rich, delicious cup of coffee. He wanted to get it by himself, prove to himself that he wasn't scared. That he could do things without Harvey there to hold his hand, as they say. So Mike told Harvey he'd be right back, insisted that he really could do this alone, and left Harvey's penthouse apartment. Harvey asked for a coffee as well, black. Like his soul, Mike joked as he walked out the door. Starbucks was filled with the usual mix of young hipsters, aspiring writers, frazzeled business-people, and friendly baristas. His order took a few minutes to prepare, so he wandered around looking at all of the different mugs and tumblers and coffee beans that could possibly be sold in one place. When he heard his order called at the counter, he took it and walked out into the street. The first sip of coffee was delicious. Mike felt like maybe his life would get back on track.

* * *

"Shit." Harvey grabbed his keys and called Mike's cellphone. He heard it buzzing on the countertop. "Shit!" He swore again.

"Mike, when you gt this message, get back to my place and call me back! I mean it! We need to talk."

The next phone call was to Detective Smith.

"He left his phone here." Harvey said flatly.

"I'll find him. Zachary's photo is circulating through every squad car and police station in five states." Smith said.

"How the fuck did this happen?" Harvey ground out. "You were supposed to be watching him."

"The officer I had watching him was found unconscious on the floor inside his room along with a doctor. Zachary must have switched clothes with the doctor and snuck out." Smith admitted. "He's clever and my man was lazy."

"He's going after Mike." Harvey stated. "I'm going to find him first." Then he hung up. He was about to leave when his open laptop "pinged" with an e-mail marked "URGENT-WATCH ME". Harvey moved slowly toward the computer and moved the white arrow over the link. He clicked.

* * *

Mike woke to a harsh white light on his face. He blinked his eyes and tried to block out the bright white. He pulled on his hands and found that they were tied over his head to the rafters of what looked like an unfinished garage. He jerked on the ropes, but he had no leverage with his arms further than shoulder-width apart. He looked down and saw his feet were standing on two plastic buckets.

"You know, if I were you..." Zachary walked into the light. "I would try not to lose my balance."

Mike froze. "No."

"Yes, baby. You know, it's not very nice to shoot people." Zachary lifted his t-shirt to show Mike the bandages. "The doctors said I can't be too physically active for a while, so I've had to be creative for your punishment."

"What? Punishment"? Mike stumbled over his words.

"You're standing over a special toy of mine, baby. We're going to have some fun." Zachary turned to the light and turned it down so Mike could see the laptop on the table in front of it. "All three of us."

* * *

Harvey's blood went from running cold to boiling with rage. Mike was blearily looking at the laptop now, finally noticing it. He looked terrified and sad, all of his progress in the last few weeks dissolving as his worst nightmare stood in front of him.

"Say hello, Mister Lawyer man." Zachary said. "It's a two way feed."

"I'm calling the police." Harvey said.

"Ah-ah, I wouldn't do that. Keep both hands on the table where I can see them or I'll kill this boy right here in front of you. Can you live with that?" Zachary waited as Harvey slowly placed his hands flat on the table. "Very good. You see, I'm impressed by you. Maybe a few years ago I would have given you a go. Mike here is pushing ahead in age, too."

"H-Harvey?" Mike sniffled. Tears were starting to run down his face.

"Mike, I'm right here." Harvey reassured him.

"And you will be the whole time I'm with Mike here. If you leave, if you look away, if you so much as move your hands, I'll kill him. But it you stick it out, I'll tell you where to find him after I'm done. Alive." Zachary shrugged. "You hold his fate in your hands."

"I'm not going anywhere." Harvey wasn't sure if he was saying that to Zachary, or to Mike. Mike was staring at Harvey's face with those wide blue eyes, begging him to leave. He didn't want his boss to see him like this.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dark and disturbing and made me question my own psyche after I finished. So...yeah, graphic is coming up.

Harvey watched with a tight expression as Zachary approached Mike. Mike was openly crying now.

"Don't cry, baby. Everything's going to be ok as long as Mr. Suit there stays where he is." Zachary wiped the tears from mike's face, his touch a mockery of a real caress. Mike flinched away.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" He asked, terrified of the answer and yet morbidly curious. Zachary moved out of the webcam's line of sight so Harvey could get a fuller view of Mike. Harvey's face paled slightly, or maybe it was the glare of the screen. But it scared Mike.

Harvey saw, about three inches below his associate, a long thick dildo attached to a post. It looked like it was made of wood.

"We're going to play a little game, Mike." Zachary said. He reached down and moved one of the buckets Mike was standing on to the side, forcing Mike's legs apart and he sank down. His anus was now resting on top of the dildo. Mike's eyes widened.

"What are you doing?" Mike said in a panic.

"This is my favorite game. Every time I make you moan, you move down." Zachary replied, as if he were talking about Bingo or Solitaire. He turned to the laptop. "Remember our deal."

"I remember." Harvey said pointedly. He watched Mike's face as the young man drew ragged, scared breaths.

"Then let's begin." Zachary approached Mike.

"Please don't do this." Mike whispered. But he knew it was hopeless.

Zachary wrapped a warm hand around Mike's length and began to stroke slowly. Mike blushed, knowing that Harvey was watching. Tears continued to fall down his face. Zachary was slowly bringing him to hardness, and Mike began to feel the moans pressing against his teeth. He fought to keep them in as Zachary continued to touch him, snaking a hand up to tweak his nipple. Mike couldn't stop himself. A small moan escaped his lips.

"That didn't take very long." Zachary said, almost disapprovingly. He bent down for the other bucket he had yet to move. Mike begged him not to until he felt a hard object enter him about halfway. He moaned in pain again before he could stop himself. The other bucket was moved and the disgusting toy slipped further into him.

"St-stop..." Mike whispered. "It hurts."

"What was that, baby?" Zachary feigned deafness. "Speak up so we can all hear you."

Harvey's face flushed with rage. His friend was being tortured and humiliated by a sick sociopath and he couldn't stop him. Mike's eyes met his.

"It hurts." He said a little louder.

"Good." Zachary grinned. "Let's continue."

"Goddamn it! Stop this!" Harvey exploded.

"You say one more word without my permission, I kill Mike. Got that, Mister Lawyer?" Zachary faced the screen. "I will stop when I am ready to stop."

And with that, Zachary continued his slow handjob to Mike. Mike felt heat building in his stomach that almost made him forget about his pain. It took two minutes, two trembling minutes, for him to moan. He felt himself slide lower on the dildo and fresh tears sprang to his eyes, much to Zachary's delight. Pain shot up his spin as the hard object used gravity to force itself inside him. He was barely balancing on his tiptoes, trying to take some of the weight off the toy. His legs cramped up though, and as Harvey watched and Zachary laughed, Mike's legs gave out. He sat his full weight down on the post with a cry of misery.

His instincts kicking in, Mike made the mistake of trying to hoist himself off of it by pulling on his wrist restraints. He almost made it before his left foot slipped off its bucket. He tried to get it back on, but he just couldn't reach it before his arms gave out. Mike's other foot slipped. It was now completely inside him. Mike sat on the post with the dildo, his toes just touching the ground so his full weight was on the post.

"Oh God, it hurts!" Mike's desperate cry cut into Harvey like a knife. "It hurts! Please!"

"They always try that, pulling themselves up." Zachary mocked. "The result is always the same though."

Harvey bit down on his tongue to keep himself from speaking. Or shouting. Or bending the laws of physics by reaching through the screen and beating Zachary to death. He thought about trying to move his hands when Zachary wasn't looking, but decided that it was too risky. Mike's life hung in the balance, and Harvey was not about to let him die.

Mike had at this point forgotten about his boss and his panicked thrashing was starting to increase. He felt something wet starting to trickle down his leg, vaguely realizing he was bleeding again.

"Now comes the best part." Zachary placed both hands on Mike's neck and kissed the younger man passionately. Mike refused to open his mouth when he felt a tongue on his lips. The hands tightened until Mike had to open his his mouth, and Zachary took this chance to invade his mouth. Rough. Uncaring. _Dominating_. Mike's tears wetted the other man's cheeks. He felt hands leave his neck and encircle his waist.

Before Mike could even process this development, he was lifted halfway off the toy and dropped back down again and again. He tried to scream, but Zachary swallowed it in his kiss.

Finally, Mike's mouth was released. The blood dripped faster down his legs now, the rough un-lubricated surface tearing him inside worse than before.

"C-can I g-go now?" Mike sobbed. Zachary merely held up a riding crop. Mike hung his head. Harvey's hands curled into fists. He had seen enough abuse cases during his first few years as a lawyer working pro bono to know the type of damage a crop can do.

"One more thing." Zachary said quietly. "Fuck yourself."

"What?" Mike thought he had heard wrong.

_smack_

Mike screamed.

"You heard me. Fuck yourself on that toy." Zachary replied, as if talking about the weather. He turned to the screen were a beet-red Harvey was still watching. "You see, because of my bullet wound, I have to take it easy for awhile or I could die. So Mike will just have to do it for me."

Mike heard the whistle of wind before the crop connected to his back. He screamed again, but managed to haul himself up with his wrist retraints a few inches. The crop landed again on his back and Mike fell back down.

"Again." Zachary commanded.

Years later, Harvey would still have occasional nightmares of Mike's screams.

* * *

What seemed like hours later, Zachary dropped the bloody riding crop and wiped his hands. Mike, long having lost the energy to scream, breathed heavily in unconsciousness.

"Now, Mister Lawyer, we had a deal." Zachary turned to Harvey, who had tear tracks down his otherwise stoic face. Harvey had watched his associate cry, beg, scream, moan, and pass out only to be woken by buckets of water to the face. He didn't give a damn that he had cried. "Your associate is in the basement of the abandoned apartment complex that your firm's pro bono division had shut down. I believe there were some health concerns due to shoddy foundations."

Harvey sat stunned. That place was less than thirty minutes from his own apartment if he hurried.

"I must say, Mike has been fun. But as it turns out, my face is in every registry known to man now. My fingerprints and DNA are in the system, and it won't take long for them to figure out who I am." Zachary motioned for Harvey to speak.

"So what now?" Harvey croaked, his voice shaky.

Zachary shrugged. "I will be waiting here for you to arrive with the police."

"Harvey looked away from the screen for the first time since he first starting watching. He had his phone out and his jacket on before he hit the door.

* * *

Zachary looked up as black-clad SWAT rushed into his modified dungeon. He had sound proofed the area, of course. He let himself be thrown to the floor and cuffed as Mike was looked over by EMTs. Harvey was with them, having muscled his way in with what looked like the lead detective. Mike's restraints were cut and h was lifted gently onto a stretcher. Harvey made eye contact with Zachary, and then he was gone, following the stretcher.

* * *

Harvey only had to give the young EMT one look to convince her that he needed to ride along. Harvey stayed out the way as the unconscious man was tended to, images swimming before his eyes. He heard a groan from the stretcher and moved forward as Mike's eyes fluttered open.

"Stop..." Mike gasped out. He felt a warm hand slip into his own, but he flinched away before slipping back under. Harvey tried not to feel hurt at Mike's rejection. The younger man had just spent half an hour being tortured in ways that even Harvey had never seen. So he swallowed his personal hurt and steeled himself for when Mike woke up again.


	13. Chapter 13

Mike was floating. Floating in something lighter than water but denser than air. It was dark, but not cold, like a summer night in Alabama. All of the pain of the real world was pulsing above the surface, but Mike was just floating.

"Mike."

Mike ignored it.

"I'm so sorry Mike. I shouldn't have let you out of my sight."

Mike floated closer to the surface.

"If you never want to speak to me again, I'll understand. But Mike..."

Mike could almost see the real world through the swirling blackness.

"It's time to wake up."

Mike's face broke the surface.

* * *

"It's not your fault." Donna ran a hand through her perfectly styled red hair. "He'll know that, Harvey."

"I didn't even try to help him." Harvey said through his fingers. He had his head in his hands and his elbows rested on his knees. To his left, Mike's breathing was even and sedated.

"He's alive, Harvey. Because you were strong enough to be there for him." Donna placed a hand on the back of Harvey's neck and rubbed small circles in it. Harvey was aware of how similar this gesture was to the way he comforted Mike late at night.

Mike had stirred once in the last half hour, and only for a moment. He had sucked in a breath as if he just come up from underwater, looked at Harvey, and closed his eyes again. The doctor assured Harvey that this was a normal part of coming out of the sedation they used for surgery. Harvey's associate was lying once again in a small hospital bed, wearing a thin gown that tied in the back. He had once again had surgery to repair the damage Zachary had done and stitches crossed his body in a random pattern. Harvey was looking at the dark bruise surrounding some stitches, the slapping of the riding crop ringing in his ears. Mike's entire body had received this treatment except his face, for reasons Harvey didn't know. Mike had been aid on his side to avoid the worst of his injuries on his back.

"Harvey?" Donna's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Sorry."

"How could someone hurt _Mike_?" Donna continued. "Of all people...why Mike?"

Harvey sighed. "I don't know, Donna. I don't know."

A small groan from the bed alerted them to the fact that Mike was waking again. Donna watched as Harvey focused on Mike, and decided to wait in the waiting room.

Harvey waited for Mike's eyes to open fully. Blue eyes that were still glassy met his, and for a moment Harvey barely even dared to breathe. Mike suddenly tried to speak, but all that would come out was a rasp.

"Don't try to talk just yet." Harvey said softly, soothing Mike's panic somewhat. "The doctor said your vocal cords would probably be too swollen to speak." Harvey didn't add that it was due to excessive screaming. Mike nodded slowly, then he shivered. "Are you cold, Mike?"

Mike nodded after a moment of hesitation. He was only wearing the thin hospital gown and the bed had one thin blanket. Harvey leaned down and retrieved something from the floor. Mike saw the object in his hands was a blanket. The furry black blanket that Harvey kept on his sofa, the one that Mike had curled up in more than once after nightmares. Harvey tucked it around Mike slowly, carefully avoiding any skin to skin contact. Mike laid on his side then, swallowed by the blanket's folds.

"I had Donna bring it over on her way here. I remembered how cold it is." Harvey explained, trying to fill the silence. Mike nodded again, trying to convey a 'thank you'. Silence stretched on between the two men, something that was usually rare. Harvey didn't know what to say now that Mike was awake, and Mike couldn't speak even if he knew what to say. Slowly, Mike reached a hand out from under the warm cocoon of blanket and held it out. Harvey looked at it for a moment before sliding his hand into Mike's, keeping eye contact. Mike flinched slightly at the contact, but gripped Harvey's hand tightly. Mike laid their intertwined fingers on the hospital bed by his face. Harvey would have never guessed how much strength Mike had in his grip.

Mike, I need...I need you to know how sorry I am." Harvey began. Mike started to shake his head, something made awkward by his position on his side. "No, listen. I'm sorry...I'm sorry I couldn't look away when you asked me to. When you looked me in the eye and begged me to look away, to let Zachary kill you."

Mike closed his eyes, reliving his moment of weakness. He had been close to unconsciousness for the third time, his body bleeding and his arms on fire from exertion. He had looked at Harvey's face on the screen and seen the cracks in his boss's mask. Mike had asked Harvey to look away, to let him die, just as the first tear rolled down Harvey's face.

"I couldn't let you die." Harvey's voice almost broke on the last word. Mike just squeezed his hand harder, wishing he could speak. Say anything to sooth the guilt in Harvey's eyes. But no words came to mind even if he could have spoken them.

* * *

Mike had fallen asleep again hours ago and Harvey had slipped under an hour after. But he woke to sounds of rustling. Mike was frantically trying to take off his hospital gown, the furry blanket forgotten on the floor.

"Mike!" Harvey reached for him just as Mike managed to tear the hospital gown. Mike looked down at his torso, and saw the bruising and stitches. He looked at Harvey with wild eyes, trying to communicate what he wanted. "Mike, what are you doing?"

"I...want to...see..." Mike managed to say quietly. Harvey understood then. Mike, in a fit of drugged exhaustion, was trying to see the damage done to his body. He wanted to look in a mirror.

"You shouldn't get out of bed yet." Harvey spoke to Mike as if he were a spooked horse. "Just lay down. I'll get you a new hospital gown, ok?"

Mike nodded. Harvey handed him a new gown, and turned around as Mike took off the old one. Mike wasn't sure why Harvey did that. Was Harvey disgusted by what he had seen happen to him? Mike tried to hold back his tears as he fumbled with the straps, the painkillers making him clumsy. Finally he gave up.

"Harvey..."

The older man turned and saw Mike's situation. "Mike, can I help you?" Harvey asked softly.

Mike nodded, tears in his eyes now. Harvey tied the last of the straps and helped Mike lay back down on his side. He saw the shame in Mike's eyes and he realized.

"Mike, you're going to hear this a lot, and from a lot of different people. But if you have ever believed me about anything, believe me now. You have nothing to feel ashamed of." Harvey held Mike's gaze, taking in the drugged look of his eyes. Mike seemed to accept what Harvey said with a short nod. "Get some sleep, Mike."

Harvey picked up the discarded blanket from the floor and once again wrapped Mike in it. By the time he was done with that, Mike was sleeping again. Or maybe the sedatives had just made him pass out. Harvey didn't care which at this point. The kid needed some rest. Harvey rubbed his eyes and checked his Rolex watch. It was late, far later than visiting hours dictated he should stay. Obviously the nurses had decided to ignore his presence. He checked his phone and found ten missed calls from Jessica and five from Louis. As far as Harvey was concerned, they could just fuck off until morning.


	14. Chapter 14

"No." Harvey crossed his arms.

"Harvey-" Jessica began.

"Jessica, Mike needs me right now." Harvey said sternly.

"And I need you to go to Chicago to pacify our client." Jessica continued sitting behind her desk like a cold statue. It pissed Harvey off. "Harvey, I know how you feel."

"No. You don't know how I feel because you weren't there!" Harvey shouted. Louis, hearing the commotion, stuck his head in. "Fuck off, Louis!" The rat-like man ran away. Harvey composed himself. "I was there. I saw...I saw what he did to Mike."

"I know that." Jessica sighed. "It's just for one night. I need you to go there, show the client who's boss, and be on the next flight home. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't need you."

"No." Harvey repeated. Jessica's eyes hardened.

"Yes you are. I was asking you before. But now I'm telling." Jessica stood, still looking stoically at her employee. "You are going to Chicago. You are going to do your job."

Harvey's shoulders sagged minutely. Jessica knew she had won the battle.

"If you...ever...say you know how I feel again...you will never see me again." Harvey said threateningly. Then he calmly walked out of the office, leaving a slightly less stoic Jessica in his wake.

* * *

Harvey walked into the hospital room with the duffel bag of clothes and things for Mike. Donna was beside Mike's bed, telling mike a story about one of Harvey's most embarrassing courtroom experiences.

"And then, you'll never believe this, he tripped and fell in front of the jury!" Donna giggled as Mike smiled. Harvey entered the room.

"I never actually hit the floor." Harvey countered. Donna rolled her eyes and mouthed 'yes he did' to Mike, who managed a small laugh. "Ok, that's enough sharing for one day. You ready, kiddo?"

Mike nodded and sat up in bed. Harvey put the duffel bag down on the bed and began handing Mike clothes. A white t-shirt, some jeans, and a hoodie that said Harvard. Harvey had gotten it for Mike as a joke, and he was rewarded when Mike's eyes lit up at the sight of it.

"Thanks Harvey." Mike limped slightly as he walked to the bathroom to change. Donna turned to Harvey as soon as Mike closed the door.

"What happened with Jessica?" Donna asked sharply.

"My flight leaves in six hours." Harvey's eyes blazed in sharp contrast to the calm of his voice. "I'm flying to Chicago to spoon feed Jessica's idiot client the facts about the case."

"What?" Mike had stepped outside, his Harvard sweatshirt hanging off his frame. More than it used to, Harvey noticed. Harvey sighed.

"I have to leave tonight. But I'll be back tomorrow morning." Harvey watched Mike's walls go up again. He sighed. "I'm really sorry."

"Let's just go." Mike choked out. Harvey let Mike walk past him and he tried to guide Mike into the wheelchair. For the second time. But Mike flinched away from his contact. Harvey thought it was because Mike was skittish about male contact. But Mike flinched away because he was scared that he would crumble into tears.

* * *

Mike sat down on his usual bed at Harvey's place, looking that the few things he had brought from home to decorate the room. The only picture he had of his parents sat on the bedside table and his fake Harvard degree was on the wall. He felt the bed dip as Harvey sat next to him. He had been on the phone for a long time, and he knew that Harvey had been talking to Dr. Reilly.

"Mike, i have to leave now." No answer from the younger man. "You have my cell number if you need to call me. Anytime you need me, you call me." Harvey waited for Mike to respond, and felt his chest tighten as mike continued to stare ahead, not looking at Harvey.

* * *

_Mike's POV_

Harvey talked to Dr. Reilly for a really long time. Was he talking about me? Probably. He was probably telling her all about what happened to me and how I was broken now. Because that's what I was now, right? I was broken. I couldn't even feel anything right now but hollow numbness. Maybe it was a result of the pain killers I was still on, I didn't know. It didn't matter. Harvey was leaving me behind. He was tired of taking care of me, of me needing him for everything. Damnit, I was more than thirty years old! Why was acting like such a traumatized child?

God. I didn't even say good bye to him. He was waiting for me to say good bye. And I didn't.

* * *

_Harvey talking on the phone_

"I need to know that you'll still be there to help him." Dr Reilly said.

"You know I will." Harvey said harshly. "He needs me."

"From what you've told me, he's become very dependent on you. He trusts you, something that in his situation is going to be very rare for awhile. You need to let him lean on you until he's strong enough to stand on his own again."

"How is he ever going to recover from this? He was barely starting to stand alone the last time, and he's worse now than before!" Harvey lowered his voice again. "I don't know how to help him anymore."

"Just be there for him. Listen to him when he's ready to talk. Talk to him when he's scared. Don't push too hard, but make sure he knows that he's not broken. And even if he is, anything that is broken can be fixed."

* * *

Mike laid in bed, listening to Donna bustle around the kitchen as she cleaned up from dinner. Dinner meaning Donna ate while Mike poked his food with a fork. And now, Mike was just lying in bed as the nightmares that haunted his sleep tried to creep into his mind. Finally, he gave into exhaustion. Every minute of his slumber was filled with fear, and pain, and memories somehow made worse the way only dreams can do. Finally, after waking for the fifth time that night, Mike knew what he had to do.

Harvey was just getting to the airport for his return flight when his phone rang. On the other end, there was silence.

"Mike?" Harvey asked the silence. Finally...

"When are you getting back?" Mike asked quietly.

"I'm in the airport right now. My plane leaves in half an hour. I'll b back soon." Harvey promised. Damn right he would, even if he had to pilot the plane himself. He hated airports. Masses of people, stuck in limbo. Not quite where they started, not quite where they ended. Just stuck.

"I can't sleep." Mike said.

"Why not?" Harvey asked as he settled into an uncomfortable airport chair.

"I..." Mike's throat closed up. He felt the tears again. How could he still be crying now? "Harvey, I'm scared!"

"Mike, it's ok to be scared." Harvey said gently.

"You're never scared." Mike whispered.

"Of course I am." Harvey winced as images flashed before his eyes. "I'm scared of lots of things. But I'm the cold hearted bastard that closes cases against lowlifes who can smell fear. So i hide it."

"Can you teach me how to hide it?" Mike asked sleepily. "Teach me how to be like you." Listening to Harvey was making him relax. Harvey sighed.

"You don't want to be like me, kiddo. Being me..." Harvey paused, listening to Mike's soft breath. "Mike? Kiddo?"

There was no answer. Harvey hung up the phone. Being him was lonely, tiring, and exhausting. He avoided people, and they were happy to avoid him. Except for Mike. Mike went out his way to not avoid Harvey. Sure, he avoided Harvey around the office if he was running late. But no one had ever stuck with him so long, or tried so hard to be his friend.

* * *

Mike woke from a nightmare, gasping for air.

"Mike, it's ok." Harvey sat on the bed, hesitating to touch him after Mike had flinched away the day before.

"You're back." Mike sat up and buried his face in Harvey's suit, the one he had been wearing during his trip. He smelled like cigarette smoke, cheap coffee, and expensive woody cologne. Harvey wrapped his arms around Mike's shaking shoulders and just held him.

"Mike." Harvey ran his hand up and down Mike's back. "You don't want to be like me."

Mike nodded. "I know." He sniffled and smiled a little. "You're mean."

Harvey smiled into his hair.

"You bet your ass I am."

"Donna told me you told Louis to fuck off." Mike giggled softly.

"Yes, I did." Harvey admitted proudly. "I was shouting at Jessica for making me leave and he pointed his nose in our direction like a rodent. It just...slipped out."

"Wait...you shouted at Jessica?" Mike pulled back. "Why?"

"She wanted me to leave and I wanted to stay. You needed me." Harvey shrugged. "I told her I didn't want to leave you. But she twisted my arm."

Mike yawned suddenly.

"Time to sleep again, Mike." Harvey pushed Mike down into the pillows again. Mike nodded and closed his eyes again. Harvey was struck once more by how similar his brother and Mike looked when they were sleeping. After so many years of being alone, after his father's death left him cold, Mike made the big brother inside him feel useful. Not like a burden to his work.

"Stay..." Mike muttered as he rolled over.

"As long as you need me." Harvey sat back against the headboard again, the way he did the first time Mike stayed at his apartment.


	15. Chapter 15

Mike sat silently in his normal chair in Dr. Reilly's office. The petite woman sat across from him, waiting for Mike to speak. This was the second session since Mike's release from the hospital, and Dr. Reilly was determined not to push Mike too hard. But after the first session had been spent with Mike sitting quietly and looking everywhere but at her, it was beginning to seem like an unpleasant necessity.

"Harvey's trying, you know." Mike suddenly said, still not meeting her eyes.

"Trying?"

"He's trying so hard to...to fix me." Mike's fingers curled tightly into fists as he forced his words out. "He's just trying to help...but..." Mike finally met his therapist's eyes.

"But what, Mike?"

"Who's going to fix him?" Mike whispered. Dr. Reilly looked at him curiously.

"Why does Harvey need fixing?" Dr. Reilly asked. She didn't know all of the details of Mike's latest trauma. All she knew was it was bad, and Harvey had watched it happen. At least Mike was talking again, even though he seemed to be avoiding talking about himself.

"He's good at hiding it, but I can see he's starting to crack." Mike considered his hands, looking away from Dr. Reilly again. "He blames himself, you know. He thinks that what happened to me this time was his fault. He thinks he could have, should have done more to stop it."

"Do you?" Mike's head snapped up.

"No! Harvey saved my life. Even..." Mike gulped. "Even when I begged him to let me die."

Silence filled the room as Mike was lost in his memories. Dr. Reilly watched Mike struggle for a moment before reaching out and taking his hand gently enough that Mike could pull away if he wished. Mike hesitated for a moment before gripping her hand like a lifeline. The similarity of the moment to the time he held Harvey's hand in the hospital wasn't lost on him.

"He never gave up on me, even after I did. Now he can't sleep, barely eats, hides his pain behind a mask...Like I can't see the way he looks at me as if he's failed me somehow." Mike wiped some errant moisture from his eyes. "How can I let him go through this? Punish himself? For me?"

"It's his way of apologizing for something he thinks he's done. Whether he realizes that he's doing it or not." Dr. Reilly squeezed Mike's hand briefly, still leaving the grasp loose.

"But he didn't do anything wrong..." Mike whispered.

"Have you told him that?"

"Yes. But he doesn't hear me." Mike shrugged. "I don't think he wants to. He just wants to fix me."

"Do you think you need fixing?" Dr. Reilly asked. Mike considered this for a moment.

"I don't know. Am I broken?" Mike's pain-filled blue eyes met Dr. Reilly's again. Dr. Reilly couldn't answer him. "I think I am."

* * *

 

Mike opened the door to Harvey's apartment and instantly heard an odd sound coming from the sofa in the living room. He moved closer and saw Harvey sleeping on the sofa. There were large bags under his eyes, his normally perfect hair was slightly askew, and Mike thought that then man's clothes looked maybe just a bit larger than they had before. But Mike had noticed all of those things before. What caught his attention this time was the small sound escaping from Harvey's throat, and the tight lines around his eyes. Mike made to move forward but bumped into the coffee table and the sound woke Harvey.

"Hey, kid. How'd it go?" Harvey sat up and rubbed his red eyes. Mike shrugged. "Mike, I need to check it."

One of Mike's lacerations on his back had become infected, and the doctor had given Harvey instructions to check it once a day and apply an antibiotic salve. Mike nodded and slowly shrugged off his t-shirt and sat on the couch while Harvey went to find the salve. When Harvey came back, he had to clench his teeth to keep a gasp from escaping. The mostly healed scars crossed Mike's back and arms, stopping halfway up his neck. He knew there were more that were on Mike's legs too. Most of them would fade and not scar, but one particularly deep gash had become infected.

"It looks a lot better now." Harvey said quietly as he began to smooth salve over the reddened skin. "Probably won't need to do this anymore after a week."

Mike remained silent, just concentrating on the feel of Harvey's gentle fingers. It was hard for him to accept physical contact from anyone, but as long as he blocked his memories through extreme concentration Harvey could touch him.

"Harvey..." Mike said hesitantly.

"What?" Harvey capped the salve.

"When was the last time you slept?" Mike turned to meet Harvey's eyes. "Really slept."

"Mike, I'm fine." Harvey said tightly.

"No you're not. You're tired."

"I'm fine, I swear." Harvey's tired voice made Mike decide to drop the subject.

"Ok." Mike pulled his shirt back on. "How's Donna?"

"Coming over in..." Harvey checked his watch. "Twenty minutes. She's worried about you. Louis started mentioning firing you permanently and of course Donna found out."

"Donna knows all." Mike agreed with a small smile.

"Let's just say, Jessica had a few words for him." Harvey smiled too at the memory. "The rat man should know not to mess with Donna, or anyone associated with her."

Later, after Donna had practically force-fed Harvey and regaled Mike with stories from the office, Mike was sleeping in his room when he woke to sound of shattering glass. He got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. He was greeted by the sight of Harvey sitting on floor surrounded by glass. An open bottle of what looked like scotch was on the counter.

"Harvey? Are you drunk?" Mike asked. Harvey laughed humorlessly and tried to stand. "Harvey be careful. There's glass everywhere."

After some maneuvering, Mike got the glass cleaned up, Harvey on the couch, and mugs of coffee in front of them.

"Harvey, what's happening to you?" Mike peered into Harvey's slightly unfocused eyes. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

"You just look so...young." Harvey regarded the coffee in his mug, the alcohol loosening his emotions. "You know, you used to have a young look in your eyes. Innocent, naive, believing. But ever since that guy attacked you, it's been gone. And I don't know how to get it back for you. For the first time, I have no idea what to do because I'm terrified of doing the wrong thing and hurting you even more."

Mike sat, stunned. "Harvey...that's not your responsibility."

"Yes! Yes it is! You are my responsibility because I messed up and you got hurt again!" Harvey shouted. "It's my fault."

"Harvey, no. It wasn't. I don't blame you, not at all." Mike tried to meet Harvey's eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because it wasn't your fault. You tried to protect me." Mike finally made eye contact with Harvey. "You still are. But you can't protect me from everything. And that's fine because I don't expect you to."

Harvey sighed. Mike, suddenly feeling tired and emotionally drained, leaned into Harvey's shoulder.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Harvey asked. Mike shook his head. "Me neither."

Harvey grabbed the remote and switched on the TV, flipping through the channels until he found a James Bond marathon. He reclined in his seat, allowing Mike to shift his head from his shoulder to his stomach. Mike tucked his feet under himself and let his mind wander as he watched the familiar movies with his boss. His friend. They watched the movies long into the night, fueled by coffee and a shared fear of sleep.

When Harvey woke up the next afternoon, at 12:40 to be exact, he had a sore back and stiff neck from sleeping on the couch with Mike using him as a pillow for much of it. But then again, he actually slept. For almost ten hours, it seemed. Harvey saw that Mike was already awake and had made fresh coffee. He was sitting next to Harvey, watching cartoons.

"What on Earth are you watching?" Harvey stretched and groaned as his joints popped.

"Cartoons. It's Saturday. Didn't you have a childhood?" Mike said with much of his former sarcasm, a gleam in his eye. It wasn't quite how Harvey remembered it, but it was closer.

"Coffee?" Harvey asked.

"If you're offering." Mike replied, eyes already glued to the colorful characters. Harvey blinked his eyes against the light, his hangover hitting him hard. Then he remembered. Everything that had been said. Harvey stood slowly and squeezed Mike's shoulder before heading to the kitchen.

* * *

 


	16. Chapter 16

It started with Mike wanting some fresh air. It was late, around 10:30, but not late enough that Harvey was very worried about safety. There were still plenty of people out and about, and the kid was going absolutely stir-crazy. They had been inside all day everyday for an entire week. Mike had been so wrapped up in working that it was sometimes easy to forget about how jumpy he could get. And how sometimes the universe likes to lull people into a false sense of security. They had only gone a little ways from the office when Harvey saw the knife in the man's hand that was up against Mike's back. His eyes were huge and scared, and Harvey went into protective mode. Mike still didn't like to be touched all that much by people other than Harvey and Donna and his grandmother. Much less a random mugger off the street.

Harvey allowed himself to be led into the back alley with Mike without making a scene, but he was tense as the knife-wielder rounded on them. Mike stared at the knife in the mugger's hand. The man was dirty and most likely homeless, or at least addicted to meth. But to Mike, he looked a lot scarier now than he would have several months ago.

"Just give your wallets," He said, eyes shifting from side to side. Mike was frozen to the spot, scared. Harvey, however, was less than impressed at their nighttime mugger.

"No," Harvey said, fixing the collar of his suit, relaxed as ever. Only Mike noticed how he subtly placed himself in front his younger companion.

"I have a knife." The mugger looked confused, as if a knife was end-all-be-all of weapons.

"Yes, and I'm wearing a tie worth more than all of your possessions combined. I will not be giving you my wallet and if you come any closer I will knock your front teeth out." Harvey nonchalantly handed Mike his suit jacket. "Here, hold this. I don't want to get blood on it."

Mike shook himself out of his trance and took the jacket with shaking hands, eyes wide. Harvey wrapped an arm around Mike's shoulders and tugged him back toward the street and away from the bewildered man holding a knife and very little dignity. Suddenly, a hand darted out and grabbed Mike's arm hard enough to bruise.

"I said give me your-" The last words were cut off by a fist smashing into his mouth. Harvey retracted his arm and again wrapped it around a shaking Mike and led him back to the street. Mike was scared and barely able to stand so Harvey hailed a cab. Harvey bundled his associate inside, texting Donna to please bring their things from the office back to the apartment.

The taxi driver looked at Harvey's blood-smeared knuckles when he handed him a twenty to drive faster, and shrugged. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. And the young one looked like he had just seen a ghost.

Harvey handed the fare with a generous tip to the driver as thanks for his only somewhat illegal driving when they arrived in record time. Mike was still quiet, but he wasn't shaking anymore. Harvey took that as a good sign. Mike ended up on the sofa, wrapped in the same brown blanket that Harvey had brought to him in the hospital. It seemed like a long time ago to Harvey, four months seeming to have simultaneously flown by and dragged on. Harvey decided to make Mike some tea for lack of anything else to do.

As Harvey held the mug out to Mike, Mike sat up looking very determined.

"I want to learn how to protect myself." Mike stated. Harvey paused, then sat next to Mike on the sofa.

"You want me to...what, take you to boxing ring?" Harvey clarified.

"Don't get me wrong, having you around makes me feel really safe. But I think I need to learn to take care of myself." Mike shrugged. "I mean, you won't always be there."

"Alright. You have a point." Harvey nodded, convinced it was a good idea. Though he still planned on being around Mike to take care of him.

"But I only want to train with you. No one else." Mike said hurriedly. "I just..."

"It's alright, I know." Harvey leaned back into the cushions. "When do you want to start?"

"As soon as possible would be good?" Mike sounded unsure. "It's kind of up to you."

"How about this Saturday?" Harvey stretched, letting himself relax after the long day. "We have some free time then."

"Sounds good." Mike sighed. "I just don't want to be at the mercy of every mugger and crazy psychopath that happens to find me anymore."

Harvey didn't know what to say.

* * *

Tonight was a bad night. A nightmare night. Mike's scream rang through the apartment, terrified and crying. Harvey had been hoping that it wouldn't happen, Mike had gone almost an entire month without a nightmare. That streak was over. Mike was in the throes of a nightmare, and it was a bad one. One of the worst he had experienced in a long time.

Mike woke to soft touches on his shoulders, fingers in his hair and thumbs brushing the tears from his cheeks.

"Harvey!" Mike sat up and buried his face in Harvey's neck like he had done so many times before after a nightmare. Already well-versed in what to do, Harvey crawled onto the bed without breaking contact with Mike, cradling the smaller man to his chest and nearly pulling him into onto his lap.

"I'm right here. I'm here, it's alright, you're safe." Harvey started his repetitions of soothing phrases. Mike clung to him, burning with shame while seeking the only comfort that he could find. This was the regular routine.

"I'm s-sorry." Mike mumbled into Harvey's shoulder. Harvey squeezed him tightly and smoothed the sweaty hair from his forehead. This was also part of the normal after-nightmare. Mike was always embarrassed by how he acted on these nights. Harvey just shushed him, keeping him close until Mike's breathing evened out and his arms loosened. Harvey sat by Mike for the rest of the night, soothing him when he whimpered and dozing in-between Mike's nightmares.

Mike woke to find Harvey sleeping next to him on top of the blankets, hair mussed and shirt wrinkled. Mike blushed, getting up out of bed. He made his way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Bruises peeked out from under the short sleeve of his t-shirt where the mugger had grabbed him, covering one of the scars Mike had received from _him_. Mike probed the tender muscles with two fingers, wincing slightly. It would heal, Mike knew it would, but it didn't stop him from stripping off his shirt to see the rest of himself.

Thin pink scars criss-crossed over his pale skin, some very light and almost faded, others still puckered and noticeable. Mike traced the familiar lines with absent-minded motions, watching the motions. He decided it was fitting, being reminded of how messed up he really was every time he was close to forgetting. As if the physical reminders weren't enough, the universe just loved to rub Mike's lack of fighting skills in his face.

"Mike?" Harvey asked from the doorway. 

"They're so ugly," Mike said with an emotionless voice that made Harvey cringe inwardly. It wasn't that Mike had been overly vain before, but he had taken a certain level of care of stay fit and groomed once he started working for Harvey.

"You think so?" Harvey asked, maintaining his distance.

"If I'm ever... _,"_ Mike paused, searching for the right word as he continued to stare at the discolored lines. _"Intimate,_ with anyone ever again, the first thing they're going to notice is that I have these."

"They won't matter to the right person," Harvey pointed out softly. Mike huffed a small sigh and pulled on his shirt back on. "Mike, scars don't have to be ugly."

"What do you think?" Mike asked, turning suddenly to face Harvey in the doorway. "What was the first thing you noticed about me when you walked in here?"

Harvey didn't hesitate.

"The look in your eyes. You looked lost, like you didn't know where you going or how you had gotten here," Harvey cupped Mike's cheek gently. 

Mike leaned slightly into the touch, tears threatening. 

"You don't have to lie to me, Harvey," Mike whispered.

"I never lie," Harvey said, mock-offended. Mike laughed then, breaking the spell. "What?"

"Harvey Spector never lies? That's hilarious," Mike giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get dressed, we have a lot of work to do today," Harvey ordered.

"Aye aye, Captain." Mike saluted him smartly.

"Wrong hand."

"Whatever."


End file.
